


A little truth from a liar

by Bloodybunny



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Thor Movies, Jötunn Loki, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-30
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2017-11-19 21:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 140,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodybunny/pseuds/Bloodybunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor marched into Jottenheim to find war and instead found a Jotun runt locked in a tower. Taking pity on the creature he took it back to Asgard with him. But Asgards latest guest has strange values and even starnger ways. Thor cannot help but be curious about his new friend. But the Jotun has his own plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Freedom is a sweet lie

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, new here so please be nice, gunna rate this one mature as there will be sex in later chapters. This was going to be a really small story but i really loved writing Loki's lines. I have the first five chapters done already so i will probably upload one a day until I am caught up. Hope you enjoy! Also i have messed with both marvel cannon and Norse mythology to fit my own means. (and of course i do not own Thor, Loki or anything in the marvel world ect ect)

A little truth from a liar

Part 1, freedom is a sweet lie

Asgard and Jottenheim had been at war for as long as time. Prince Thor had been born into it, it was war that had raised him. And as soon as he was old enough to take up the mighty Mjolnir in his grasp he joined his men in battle. Raging into Jottenheim with his father’s troops, following his father’s march, hoping with every death to bring an end of the vile monsters of Jottenheim’s tyranny. As much as Thor took joy in fulfilling his duty to protect his home every second spent in the frigid climes of the frost giants wore against his soul. It seemed there was no pelt in all nine realms to keep out the chill of Jottenheim. It was because of this that when Thor did enter Jottenheim he was known for his brutality, he struck fast and hard hoping to leave just as quickly. There was little plan to his assaults, but then the golden prince was known as a man of deed and not of thought. It was on one of these raids that Thor and his group of most trusted warriors came upon a tower of ice. They had mapped the area some months ago but found no such landmark. For a moment they thought the blinding white of their surrounding had made them misstep, but every other tree and river told them that they were on the right path and it was the tower that was lost. 

“Perhaps King Laufey seeks to set eyes against us?” Fandral mused staring at the tower.

“And from where do these eyes stare? There is not a hole a mouse could name a window in all the tower.”Sif pointed out.

“His reasons matter not.” Thor declared. “This is some act against us, and we shall meet it. Whatever dwells within the tower shall fall.” He swore taking Mjolnir in his hand. They walked towards it cautiously but they were met with no defence. No arrow flew from the highest peeks, no clink of guards broke the silence as they drew in near. There was only peace. There was no door but Thor’s mighty hammer shattered the ice to create an entrance, strangely winding steps met them leading upwards. Sending a warning glance to his companions the prince of Asgard ascended the steps. They led to a room, this one with a door. A huge door of gold, oddly yellow against the blue and white of the ice tower. But even gold was nothing against the swing of Mjolnir. With one crack the door surrendered and they entered. 

The entire room was clothed in gold. The walls sparkled in the light they let in. There was little inside, only a bed and a small neat area to wash in. The bed was huge and took up most of the room, easily big enough for six grown men to stretch themselves across. The posts swirled up to the lofty ceiling and right into the iced roof, even the sheets were woven from gold. On the bed was a figure. On their entrance the figure sat up and looked at them. It was Jotun, but not like any that Thor had seen before. For one it was a good deal shorter than any frost giant should be. Perhaps just a little shorter than himself. Its skin was blue and cut with the markings of its birth and its eyes were red as blood, but that was where it’s relation to their enemy ended. There were no horns on its brow, instead a shock of raven black hair fell down to its shoulders, and it was clothed not in a loin cloth and armoured with ice but a dark green robe slung over it and opened enough down the front to show the flat chest of a male. Just under its eyes, draped over the bridge of its nose, it wore a golden veil. 

“Name yourself and your purpose!” Thor demanded, the creature just blinked at him, those piercing red eyes shining in all that gold. Angry, Thor crossed to it, noting for the first time that it was tied to the bed with a long golden chain, but the figure did not even flinch away from the Asgardian. Thor held its face hard in one hand, but it made no move to try and escape. “Speak, you vile creature.” Finally the creature sighed through its noise, a dramatic gesture, before tapping twice against its shielded lips with one elegant blue finger. Angry Thor ripped the veil off its face and then the entire party took in a deep breath. It was obvious that the creature had been beautiful at some time, its nose was so noble and straight, its cheek bones high and well cut, but now it looked twisted. Threads of gold looped over its lips sealing them shut, red blood crusted over them, turning black at the holes. Thor took a step back horrified. “By the Norns what has been done?” He breathed in unwanted sympathy for the creature. A look of mild amusement crossed its face and it moved to climb back under the covers of its bed, as if it expected the team to just leave. 

“What do you suppose this creature is?” Volstagg asked. “Never have I seen a Jotun of this ilk.”

“Tis a small and pretty thing.” Fandral agreed blandly.

“Perhaps this creature is kept for King Laufey’s pleasure?” Volstagg suggested.

“Its mouth bound shut to keep out the screams.” Fandral added with a pitying frown. The creature just watched them.

“This is the ways of monsters and not of men.” Thor cursed. “In all my years in fighting the Jotuns I have never known this. We shall take him with us.” He decreed.

“He is Jotun!” Sif protested.

“I care not. I do not allow any creature to be harmed in this way.” Thor crossed to the creature again and with a mighty crack shattered the golden bonds chaining the creature to the bed. “I shall have a man with better craft remove the shackle, little one.” He tried to sooth as the creature watched perplexed. “Now come, I will free your mouth, but I fear it shall hurt.” The creature shuffled forward on its knees and presented itself for Thor. The prince of Asgard took out a small dagger and as gently as he could ripped the threads from the Jotun’s mouth, wincing as he had to pull out the thick wire like bindings through the holes in those lips. As soon as he was free the creature grinned at them, a horrid display ripping apart more flesh and succumbing it to a blur of dark red on monstrous blue. A vivid green light surrounded his hands and the holes in his lips melted away into nothing. He stood and regarded them.

“I give many thanks to you all.” His voice was soft and well measured, if slightly cracked by underuse. “Especially to you, Odinson. In the ways of the Jotun, I submit myself to you as your captive.” He gave a little bow. Thor stared at him, he had heard tales that some of the Jotun used magic as well as ice, but he had never seen it till that moment. It did not scare him though, he could barely think of anything besides the silver of the Jotun’s voice and the now flawless beauty of its face. 

“Give me your name.” Thor commanded.

“Loki.” The creature replied.

“Loki? What else?” Sif demanded.

“That is all I have to give.” The creature shrugged. “For I am heir to no man, and no man’s heir.” Thor looked at him for a long while. 

“You shall come with us to Asgard. My father will decide your fate.” Thor said with a nod.

“Think you this wise?” Fandral argued with Thor pulling him aside. “He is Jotun.” He reminded him.

“If my skin gives grievance, happily I will shed it.” The creature called out and then with a twist of one hand it’s skin seem to bleed of colour, it’s flesh turned pale white, the markings faded, and it’s eyes turned the most vivid green before settling to the palest, clearest blue Thor had ever seen. He looked Aesir. He would still stand out in any gathering, his skin too pale and his hair too dark, but he would pass. There was something about seeing him in his way that made him even more appealing and Thor fought the desire to not take him to his father and keep him his own secret, protect him and know him. 

“This is not a good idea.” Sif shook her head. “This creature is dangerous.” 

“You think that I would turn against the hand that freed me?” Loki asked seemingly amused by her attitude, coming away from the bed and standing near Thor, giving him a small amicable smile.

“Many times I have seen dogs tied in captivity who bite any hand that comes near, even those that seek to free them.” Sif snarled back.

“You think me a dog, now?” Loki asked with a smile, his voice a mild lazy drawl. “I assure you, I have been many things, a dog is not one. All I seek is to live, a small and petty goal to be sure, but one I pursue without fault. I know of the Odinson, his reputation amongst my people is vast. I am not foolish enough to act with violence upon him.” He cocked his head at her thoughtfully. “Or do you doubt your prince? Tell me, is the Odinson’s strength naught but tales? Is he not the man we have been led to fear? That you should think I can so easy best him tells more of your fears of him than of me.”

“I do not doubt my prince!” Sif yelled back and Loki smiled.

“Then we have no argument.” Loki turned to Thor and gifted him with a smile. “I follow where you tread, Odinson.” He swore quietly.

“My name is Thor, I would have you name me such.” Thor told him. “These are my companions, Volstagg and Volumous, Fandral the dashing, Hogun the grim, and Lady Sif.” Loki bowed to them all with respect, his now blue eyes lit with something dark and gleeful.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Loki stood before Odin and Frigga. His true form hidden, his head bowed with respect negated by the twinkle in his eyes. He was not listening to Thor who was, no doubt, recounting the tale of his meeting with the Jotun. Thor had suggested they keep Loki’s true birth from his father for the moment and Loki had agreed only because it helped his cause to placate the daring and impetuous prince of Asgard. Loki found he enjoyed the cadence of Thor’s voice ringing out through the golden halls, but that was about all he enjoyed. Loki had been told tales of Asgard since he could remember, the great golden halls, the towering pillars of splendour. In reality it was unimpressive. He found it slightly gaudy, the fool showed his wealth to the world while the clever man hide it from sight. Still he found it more agreeable than being trapped in a tower with his mouth sealed shut.

“Father, I would beseech you to show mercy and give asylum to this prisoner of Jottenheim.” Thor ended his tirade and Loki pretended to be thankful, a small smile made the Odinson beam back at him and Loki almost shook his head at the ease with which the boy was manipulated. Odin stared at Loki for a long time, and he felt it down to his marrows, his one eye fixatedly piercing into his Jotun soul.

“Leave, my son, I will consider this matter without your council.” Odin commanded. Thor opened his mouth to protest, to plea for his prisoner once more but the Allfather glared all refusals down. Thor sent out a gentle look to Loki who nearly laughed at the thought that the boy might be trying to reassure him. He pointedly ignored the look and didn’t glance as Thor was taken out of the room with the promise that he might return to hear the fate of Loki. “Drop your glamour, deceiver, let me see what you would hide from honest sight.” Odin told him, his voice not loud in the room but commanding. Loki twitched once, he was not used to being caught out so easily but with a flick of his hand he dropped the illusion. Against the gold of Asgard his skin seemed darker than it had in Jottenheim, more like dangerous murky water than the heart of an iceberg he had always considered it. Loki felt the rush of disgust at his own flesh tense his body before his well-practised showmanship return to him. He kept his composure even at the gasp from the queen and never dropped his gaze from the king. “Those markings…you are a son of Laufey.” Odin breathed and gave him pause to speak. Loki tucked down his grin, it was the king’s first mistake; no one should ever give him pause to speak.

“Indeed. I see tales of your intellect are not born of nothing.” Loki conceded with a bow of his head, wondering how a man with such perception birthed a wonderfully thoughtless creature such as Thor. “Laufey does indeed have the shame of being my father. My mother was naught but some unfortunate wretch killed for the sin of birthing me. I never did know her name.” Loki shrugged off-handishly as if this meant nothing to him, his voice perfectly light and unburdened.

“You are a small thing.” Odin observed.

“Or perhaps just far away. Tell me, your highness, how is your depth perception since my father last met you in battle?” Loki grinned mockingly, he knew that he should not have bitten back but Odin had hit a nerve at questioning his size. A man does not live as a runt amongst giants without being made aware of it at every turn. Odin glared down at him at the mention of the last fray where Laufey had slashed right through the Allfathers eye. Odin said nothing so Loki continued, he wandered now a little aimlessly, his long limbs swaying gracefully, as casual as if he were strolling some well-favoured tavern and not the hall of the Asgardian king. “I concede you observe correct, I am a runt.” Loki told him with a smirk.

“I thought the Jotun’s left the weak to die in the ice.” The queen, Frigga, whispered her eyes staring at him. 

“Indeed they do.” He smiled patronisingly, speaking like a scholar praising a young student. “And the sons of kings’ are no exceptions. I was left to the cold as nothing more than a bundle, barely had I opened my eyes.” Loki told them before grinning smugly. “There was quite a fuss made when I returned a scant eight years later, alive and demanding of my rights.” Loki felt a wash of joy pass through him as he remembered the scene, him swaddled in furs not a drop of gold or gem stones on him facing down the Jotun court with nothing more than his very existence to challenge them with. It had been his first ever triumph. 

“And how did you survive?” The king asked eyeing Loki with a well-earned suspicion. 

“Oh I have a hundred tales of that, as many as stars. I have told my brother that I was swallowed by a snake for years and grew on its poison before bursting out to my freedom. I have told others that I was dropped into a nest by a huge crow to raise with its giant brood and join its murder. I have told others that a withered crone kept me and fed me on the eyes and hearts of the elven folk to strengthen my magic. For every time I am asked I have a tale.” Loki grinned winningly.

“I want no tale, I want truth.” Odin ordered with a stamp of Gungnir. Loki sighed at him looking disappointed.

“But truth tells so little.” He explained with a shake of his head. “Whatever happened is unchangeable, it fits me not because it is not of my making. But ask for a story and you get something much better. From what I tell you I show how I wished to be seen. A sad tale makes me a creature to pity, a helpless soul you will rush to save. A cunning tale shows my want to impress you, to prove my worth with the skills of my nature. A tale of valour shows my knowledge of Asgard, of the strengths you covet. Ask me the truth and you get but one gleaming coin of fact, ask for a tale and you get a purse full of intentions.” Loki told them head held high making no excuses for his nature. He waited one moment for Odin’s reaction. The king stared at him before cocking his head.

“Would that you were me, what would you do?” He asked his voice slightly incredulous.

“Kill me.” Loki shrugged. “Your son would rail against you for a while until he found some new amusement, but as long as I live in Asgard there is chance I will seek to harm your lands.” He told the Allfather running his hand through his hair and pushing it back off his face.

“You are an intriguing man, Jotun, tell me what you want?” Odin demanded.

“A fools questions, king of Asgard.” Loki laughed. “For what man does not want a thousand things? What man will ever be satisfied no matter what is laid before him?” He pointed out with a titter. “But what I want most is what all men want. I want to live, and at this moment all my hopes on breathing another day rest in your command and your son’s mercy.” Loki spoke without reverence to Thor’s mercy, he knew what a misguided thing it was, he also doubted it would be long lived.

“Throw on your false flesh once more, I will call my son back to us. You are his prize and he deserves to know your fate.” Loki nodded at Odin’s words and the warm skin slid back over his body, a coil of tension gripped his stomach, the familiar feeling of his life held in the balance sinking into him. It seemed no matter how many times he stood awaiting judgement it would never become easier. Thor strode back into the room with purpose, his eyes finding Loki and scanning him for signs of being mistreated. When he was satisfied that there was none he smiled with relief and took his place by the Jotun’s side. “Thor, my son and heir, this creature, this Jotun, is taken from our enemies by honest means, he is yours to do with as you wish. His life is yours, his body yours, his spirit yours.” The Allfather decreed. Loki grinned, it was better than he thought, not even a small stint in the dungeon, not being used as a bargaining chip against his father, not even a mention of chains. Odin seemed content to let Thor believe what he wished about Loki and not even tell him what he had revealed.

“No.” Thor spoke back and Loki felt his blood chill. He had been prepared for the Odinson’s mercy to fade but he had not expected it to cool so easily. “Loki is not to be my property. I name him my equal, all I wish to own from him is his friendship, if he will own mine.” Thor swore to the hall and Loki swallowed the bark of laugher that threatened and couldn’t help but reach out and take Thor’s huge hand in his own. The prince was the biggest fool he had ever met. He felt a surge of protectiveness rush through him, while he was there in the golden clamber of Asgard he would use this merciful prince for all he could, abuse him in any way that fit his needs, but no one would harm him. It was a silent spell weaved through the air, a pact that the Odinson wasn’t even aware of agreeing to, but it bound them nonetheless. Loki turned half to Odin to see what his reaction might be. The Allfather looked grave and stood as if to challenge it. But the queen smiled softly.

“The crown agrees.” She spoke for her husband causing him to turn and look at her with a grave but trusting look of a long and happy marriage. “Unless Thor requests otherwise Loki is our guest and not our prisoner or thrall. Thor will be responsible for his safety and comfort.” Frigga gave Loki a long secretive look and he wondered briefly if he had been too quick to dismiss her as a threat. He didn’t have long to consider his thoughts as Thor grasped his hands tightly and he had little choice but to regard the prince.

“You are free, Loki.” Thor told him gladly, his blue eyes sparkling with honest joy. Loki smiled back falsely, keeping to himself that Thor had no idea that freedom was a grey idea and something no man can truly ever grasp, least of all Loki. For that moment Loki allowed himself to see the world through another’s eyes, through blue eyes sliced with honey coloured blond strands, and yes, he was free. Later Loki would blame the light and the heat of Asgard but at that moment he wanted to do something childish, something primitive, he wanted to run with no destination in mind, make some almighty noise for no reason other than to hear the sound. Some of his thoughts must have snuck unbidden onto his face for Thor pulled him away from the throne room with a smile. “Come, I shall show you the gardens and forests while the sun still shines, there will be plenty of time for chambers and halls when the lamps are lit.” He told Loki and for the first time in his life Loki could think of no criticism.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
They lay out in the field resting, the sunlight playing over them, catching the last of the dying light as the sun pulled wearily away from them.

“Tis pleasing to be home in Asgard.” Thor sighed happily. Loki shuffled towards him a small smile on his face. 

“It is a fair enough place.” He shrugged the light in his eyes telling a different tale. Thor reached over and touched Loki’s hair, just threaded one piece through his fingers. 

“When I first saw you I knew you were like no other I had ever thought to meet. What of you? What did you think of me when first our eyes met?” he asked gently. Loki slipped away from his grip a little and laughed.

“I thought you the sun.” He admitted shaking his head at his own ridiculousness. “I had not seen even the pale Jotun light for weeks, I thought the sun itself opened my door and strode into the room. Now I see I was right.” He smiled softly. “How much of the sun is there in you that you shine even in this palace of gold?” 

“You too sat entrenched in gold.” Thor reminded him.

“What use is gold without light to bring it shine? It is just another cold metal. And what cares the prisoner of the profit of his bars, do they not still bind him? Better that that accursed room be clothed in the simplest of elements rather than mock me with…” Thor rose and laid his hand on Loki’s lips to stop his tirade.

“Hush…you speak too much.” He noticed trying to keep his tone light. Loki however just glared at him and tugged Thor’s hand away.

“Seal shut your mouth with golden thread and then you may speak to me of ‘too much’, Odinson. They kept my words from me; I will not be barred from that which is mine! And now you declare me friend for all to hear you shall learn to hang upon every cadence of every syllable.” Loki joked lifting to his knees to proclaim with mock pomp, throwing his arms out wildly like some untalented bard. “You shall dream of my words as you sleep and when we are apart you shall sigh and wail ‘oh where is my dear friend and his sweet words, what would I give for but one utterance of his…” Thor clamped his hand over Loki’s mouth to smother his talk. A snort of a giggle bubbled out of Loki as he struggled to get away. A childish wrestle of grown men who should know better followed with no clear winner. Leaving them breathless and grass stained, laughter cutting into two warriors normal endurance. They breathed heavily in the air, now dark and lit with the first eager stars. Loki looked at them, so different from Jotunheim, and caught himself, ‘you are not free’ he whispered to himself, ‘not yet’. He forced a smile he no longer felt on his face and lightly thwacked Thor on the arm. “Come, I am sure there is more to Asgard then grass and trees.” He reminded him and Thor heaved himself protesting to his feet and brushed the grass from his knees. Loki twitched his fingers and a long thin blade slide in his hand, it would only take one thrust into the large neck of the Odinson and he would fall, without a soul in sight Loki could whisk himself away into nothing. Loki grinned and with a flash of green light the blade crumbled into a mess of twigs and he let them fall away from his grasp. For now it was enough to know he could.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Thor stood in the doorway watching as quietly as he could as Loki tugged at the high prim collar of his tunic. He didn’t know if Loki had heard him or not, but it didn’t matter as it seemed the Jotun was content to let him watch undisturbed. It was a pleasant sight, Loki dressed in the garb of the Asgardian court. It suited him, the way the harsh dark lines of stiff black leather meet the rich fullness of green velvet and that pale moon-kissed skin. A sight came unbidden to Thor’s eyes of that creature in the tower, its mouth made a massacre with golden threads pillaging and twisting the delicate lines of his lips into something horrific. He was a little surprised that his father had allowed Loki to stay, he knew if it was not for his mother he certainly wouldn’t have been able to give Loki the freedom he had so desperately wanted to gift him. Part of him had wondered if he might awake the next day to find him gone, pulled back to some tower and trapped by the beasts that were the young man's unfortunate kin. It turned his stomach to even think of it, and suddenly watching wasn’t enough he needed to touch. Unthinking he strode forward and went to grasp the dark haired man’s shoulder. His fingers met with nothing but air. He stared in horror as the shape before him flickered and disappeared. His face fell with disbelief as the air hung still slightly charged from the shape that had been there but a moment ago. A joyous laugh broke through his misery and he turned to see Loki stood behind him, arms crossed and face lit with amusement.

“It’s about time, I thought you meant to stare at me until the ragnarok. I was beginning to…” Loki’s next words were cut off as Thor swung backwards to fling himself at him, wrapping him up in his arms as tightly as he could. To his credit the Jotun took it with grace and remained still until the prince was satisfied that this one was real. 

“I thought they had taken you back.” He admitted as he pulled back a little, running his hands through Loki’s hair. 

“I do not plan to go anywhere not of my choosing.” Loki told him shifting away and adjusting his clothes, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles and then turning to perch on the edge of the dressing table that his mirage had been stood in front of. “Tell me, Odinson, had roots seeped from your shoes to bind to you to my doorway or was it the sight of myself that stilled your feet?” Loki asked cocking his head curiously. 

“I came to invite you to breakfast.” Thor admitted wondering if he should remind Loki that he had bid his new friend call him Thor and not Odinson. “I found myself unable to not admire you in your new clothing.” Loki laughed at him slightly mockingly and shifted to cross his legs and lean his body forward.

“It is not the cloth you find so pleasing but rather this deception under it.” Loki told him running the back of his fingers over the pure white flesh of his throat. “Does it really please you so well to see me desperately pretend to be one of your ilk? Does it make it easier if you can think of me as a sheep of your own flock lost to the winter snow, and not the wolf that you fear? Or perhaps it is merely an aesthetic preference? I had not put much thought to this pink inconstant colouring, but I understand how passing pleasant some hues can seem. And I can understand why you might find the shades of your enemy an alarming sight on one you have proclaimed friend, Jotun blue is quite a dangerous and vulgar shade. I myself always preferred green.” As if demonstrating his point he swirled a snake like coil of green magic around his fingers instantly turning his eyes to green with the power running through him. 

“Must you twist my words so?” Thor implored trying not to stalk the swirls of green with his eyes as they slunk around the sorcerers body sliding softly as it dipped and curled around his lithe limbs.

“If you make it so easy then yes, for what soul can resist the easy catch?” Loki laughed and flung himself up and away from the dresser top to stand near Thor. 

“How do you fare, Loki? Do you tire from this art?” Thor asked touching his fingertips against the magically created Aesir skin. Loki however just gave a little huff of amusement and pulled away.

“How presumptuous that you would assume yours to be the first form I have mimicked.” He scoffed shifting around Thor and glaring at him half-heartedly, too much mirth in his blue eyes to be angry. “I have been so many things. Every beast in the whole of Jottenheim has lent its form to me and some beyond my realm.” Loki smiled secretively then, his white fang like canines peeking out at the corners of his lips and for a moment Thor wondered if he might take the shape of one of Jottenheim’s blizzard hardened beasts, but he remained Loki for the moment. “I have danced with schools of silver fish, dazzling those that might prey on us with flickers of chasing light. I have filled my mouth with warm fresh blood after a hunt with the snow jackals. I have squeezed my serpent form between rocks and reached into caverns that no man’s step has trodden in for centuries. And all in Jottenheim know never to tell their secrets to a magpie.” Loki moved in close to Thor his eyes fixed on him. “So no, Odinson, this art never tires me.”

“If you can be any shape you choose, why not look like your fellows?” Thor asked. Loki’s smile faltered for just a moment and then he let out a large dramatic sigh.

“A cruel jest of fate that that one shape is barred from me.” Loki told him with a shrug and gathered a long black leather jacket from his wardrobe and slung it over his shoulders, tugging it down and into place.

“Are you not too hot?” Thor asked curiously, noting that even through his layers of leather and cloth Loki seemed unaffected by the heat of Asgard, not a single flush lit his cheeks or a hint of sweat line his brow. “I would have thought it strange for you to be able to feel the heat now.” Loki turned to him curiously.

“You think Jotun do not feel the heat?” he asked seemingly genuinely amused. “Jotun always feel the heat.” He told Thor, his right hand flicking and a deep blue fire lifting from the heart of his palm, his left hand dipped in to play the edges of his fingers in the benign boundaries of the flame. “Jotun are forged of ice, we feel the heat all the time, anything that is warmer than the deepest cores of ice is a furnace to us. In this form heat is nothing, a mild wave against my skin, a welcome break from the clawing danger it had once been.” His eyes flicked from the flame to Thor and then back as he closed his hands only to open it again and held a sopping cube of ice on his hand, cupping it like a bowl and letting the melting trickles of water run down his hand and drip to the floor. “Cold however…” He mused, rubbing the ice over his skin in a little circle, letting it slide with easy friction in the little pool of its own melting form. “Cold is new. Cold is interesting. Never had I known before what it might feel like to have such a reaction from something as mundane as cold. It is most novel.” He breathed those last words and caught his bottom lip with his teeth. Suddenly he crushed the ice cube and turned brightly to Thor. “Well I believe you said something about breakfast?”


	2. Never judge a book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki settles in and the boys go on a little trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to post this a chapter a day but then i figured why not post it all so i shall. Also i very rarely write fighting scenes so i hope its ok

Part 2, never judge a book

“Come, my son.” Frigga’s words were soft in her son’s ear as she beckoned him to join her in the garden two weeks later. “I would have a word with you.” She requested. Thor jerked his neck around searching out a now familiar dark form nearby and flicking his eyes conflicted between the welcome light of his mother and the entrancing shadows of Loki. “Your gaze is not what tethers him to our world, my son. He will not vanish without your stare.” Frigga chastised him warmly and feeling childish he followed his mother into her garden, his eyes half turned to Loki as he moved, a little irritated that Loki did not so much as glance around for him.

Frigga’s gardens were huge. They shifted over much of Asgard, it was from these plots that the golden palaces lifted high and exalted. Reminding all that no matter how beautifully man might construct, no matter the skills of dwarfs, the magic of elves, or the glory of the Aesir, nature is the true architect. Frigga laid out the skirt of her dress neatly as she took her seat on a simple carved bench hidden by drippings of hyacinth and willow. She motioned for Thor to sit beside her but he dropped to the plush ground instead, sitting at her feet as he had so often done as a child. 

“You wanted word with me, mother?” He asked his brow raised, trying to avoid the truth that he wanted to fulfil his duty to his mother with as much haste as he could and seek out Loki, he did not trust him left to the many dangers of Asgard. 

“I wanted to speak with you about Loki. He has been with us a fortnight now and I would enquire how he is settling.” Thor immediately grinned at being given permission to speak on his most favourite of topics.

“He is very strange.” He admitted. “He uses a hundred words when one would suffice. Ask him how he fairs and you must listen to him debate the meaning of the word ‘fair’ and then one’s own ability to judge oneself before you may even hope for an answer.” Thor grinned fondly and twisted a long stem of grass in his hand. “When he grins it means trouble. Though sometimes he grins to make you think he has done some mischief when in fact he has not. He does not desire to duel or practise.” Thor noted this with a frown of confusion, for what soul in Asgard did not wish to test their might? “No matter what we say he will not join my friends and I in the ring but dutifully he sits and waits, a book in his grasp. Sometimes you will think him distracted by whatever tome he grips so lovingly, and then without so much as turning his head away from the words he will call out some advice as if he has been watching intently and as if he has proven himself beyond all doubt to be our superior and therefore we are bid by his council. Is this the way of the Jotun?” The ones that Thor had faced in battle had not seemed to possess Loki’s quicksilver personality, they had seemed almost mindless creatures built for the kill. 

“Nay.” Frigga shook her head. “I fear this is just the way of Loki.” She smiled. “Do you regret taking him from Jottenheim? Do you regret naming him as friend and equal?” She asked and Thor bolted up straight.

“Never.” He declared. “He is my equal and he is my friend, and I will not let any man claim otherwise, including Loki. If he will have it Asgard will be his sanctuary for all time and my side will be his rightful place.” Thor swore to his mother, his face serious. Frigga grinned softly, a smile that was a little like Loki’s, though it lacked his cruel humour it still spoke of knowing so much beyond Thor’s power to understand. It made him miss his fellow. 

“Then do not let me bar him from his rightful place any longer. Go and seek him as you are wont to do.” Frigga gave him permission and with a little kiss on the cheek Thor left to find Loki.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Loki in equal parts loved and detested Asgard. He wished that he could cleave it in two and disregard the vile stringy cuts of meat that hung on to the rich tender chop that was his temporary home. Asgard seemed unable to decide if it was home to creatures of violence, savage things that sought to hack and maim all those that met them be they friend of fiend, or civilised creatures of tome and law, a shining example of how societies in all realms should be conducted. Loki found it very amusing to hear them curse the Jotun’s for a nature they themselves seemed to have in equal parts. But then no one wished to see the face of their enemy in the mirror, no matter how honest or true, and Loki was not a man that felt the need to champion honesty or truth and so he would leave them to their delusion of superiority. 

The one thing that Asgard did have over Jottenheim was its libraries, huge rooms, notably empty Loki scorned, piled with books from every branch of Yggdrasil. Loki suspected that these books were gathered more as a display of might and the far reaching influence of Asgard then any desire to learn from them. Some of them had not so much as a crease in their spines, and some had been placed on the shelves for so long that even Loki’s delicate touch withered them to ash. Still, the one joy of their neglect meant that not a soul had any idea of the danger of some of these books, and therefore no idea of the danger of letting one such as Loki read them. There was a perverse joy in sitting in the open, right under the gaze of the golden prince of Asgard with some of the most wicked texts ever scrawled. There was also a joy in calling out his criticisms of the Asgardian’s fighting skill and have them look at him with such disbelief as if he knew nothing of the art of violence. Loki would let them have their mistake for now, it would only make it better when he did revel himself. 

“Loki!” Thor’s voice boomed in the quiet of the library, luckily there was no one else to disturb other than the man he sought.

“Odinson.” Loki replied with a nod of his head shutting his book, partly because he knew the Odinson would not let him read in peace now, and partly because he feared that, as absent as the heir of Asgard was, even he might notice that Loki was reading a book written in the blood of a demon. 

“I have been searching all of Asgard for you, and finally here you are.” Thor beamed at him, his joy at Loki’s company ever surprising. At first Loki assumed he had some perverse attraction to him, but if that had been so than surely the golden prince would have made some demand of him to sate such a desire. Thor however only seemed concerned in having him within sight, within grasp. Loki, of course, had played on this, alternating between distancing himself and clamping himself to the Asgardian’s prince side. 

“Yes, here in the library, how grand of you to find me in the place that has become my second room.” Loki mocked, amused at how well Thor took his berating. “You are a fool, Odinson, to champion the accomplishment of so simple a task. Why I will wager that every correct intake of breath is deserving of praise in your eyes.” Thor shook his head at him but smiled still. “Well come now, do you seek me for some purpose or do you merely fret when you know not where I am?” He knew that Thor was still slightly shocked at him for sneaking down to the kitchens and switching some of the trays with the meat pies with those of the dessert pies. Thor had not understood what the profit would be on such a thing, and had stared bewildered as Loki smirked every time someone took a mouthful, waiting for the discovery. Though even Thor had laughed when the Allfather had speared a great chunk of gravy soaked apple pie into his mouth and the prince had not whispered a word of Loki’s involvement but had given him a wary look. Loki had tried to explain the joy in simple chaos and mischief but the fool had not understood him at all. 

“Yes, I keep you from mischief.” Thor declared as if any man had that power. “Father has given me leave to go out on the hunt for some beast terrorising the villages, I humbly request your presence.” He asked his clear blue eyes fixed on Loki’s now greyish-blue ones. 

“You are the Odinson, if you want me there command me, I could do nothing to stop you.” Loki pointed out.

“I would not be the Odinson with you, I would be Thor, and I would have you willing not sulking.” Thor told him his eyes shamelessly pleading and Loki wondered if the oaf had ever had a shred of dignity not won in battle. “Your presence would give me much joy. Please, you know I cannot live a day without a thousand words at least from you.” There was a slight hint of teasing in his voice and Loki smirked as the Odinson tried to poorly copy his craft to appeal to him. 

“You will have your friends with you will you not? Share out my words between the lot of them and be done with it. I will be here when you return.” Loki told him arguing more out of curiosity then anything, he wanted to see if the Odinson would try and convince him. 

“I would have none but you on this trip, therefore you shall have to speak the weight of five men, of this I know you capable.” Thor grinned.

“Hmmm….” Loki pretended to think it over. “Tell me, Odinson, is the prey we hunt large and dangerous? Could he gut us with tusk or horn? Could he strangle all breath from us? Could he rip us apart with claws like butchers hooks?” Loki asked enjoying the pleasure he noted in the Odinson’s eyes at the mention of danger, certainly he courted it more than most men. And Loki enjoyed making Thor question his persona, constantly wondering if Loki was an elegant creature of the court or a wicked creature of the battle field. “I will not hunt anything that is not worthy of being slain.” He added with a sniff.

“I swear to you a beast of worth if you agree.” Loki stared at Thor as he waited for his reply and wondered if while he was hacking Asgard apart and hurling away those parts that sat ill with his stomach would the Odinson remain or not. Strong hands furrowed into his tunic, the Odinson was a physical thing and he would always assume that begging with words alone would never be enough. Loki grinned at how little he knew.

“I will go with you.” He agreed and the smile that Thor gifted him with was enough to both heat his stomach and set his teeth on edge.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Thor grinned as the wind whipped through his hair. As much as he loved Asgard he was happy for a moment to be nothing more than a man and not the prince of a vast and proud kingdom. This was different from setting forth with war in mind, this was a pleasant excursion for nothing more than victory. It made it all the sweeter that Loki and Loki alone was by his side. 

Thor sat abreast a fine stead, its muscles quivering with the joy of fast pace, his loyal chestnut mount as happy to be out of its confines as it master. Loki was a little to the left on a beast of black a mark of white sliding down its nose. Loki had laughed at Thor’s suggestion that he ride with him on his horse and politely refused so much as a saddle. Thor knew that Jottenheim didn’t keep horses as Asgard did and wondered how the Jotun would fare on the creature. But as always Loki surprised him and heaved himself up onto its bare back as if it was his rightful place. Even now he moved the creature with the slightest motion of his thighs and seemed at some moments to lean forward and whisper sweet words of command in its flicking ears, that, of course, was foolishness, but Thor enjoyed seeing the dark heads bump slightly as Loki shifted to communicate with his mount.  
The forest was dense but the path was well trodden giving them a remarkably easy track to walk down. They had ridden in fast spurts broken with slow easy trots to rest the horses for hours now, not speaking apart from the occasional shout to decide on direction and they were now losing the light. Thor turned to seek Loki and found the man bent forward whispering some secret in the waiting ear of his ride.

“We should make camp.” He suggested and Loki nodded immediately and scanned the woods for an appropriate spot. They found an old site, probably used by traders, a pit for a fire still half made and easily cleared for their means. Loki lit the wood with a wave of his hand before Thor could even suggest kindling and they sat near it, the light playing off their features. Thor studied Loki, he seemed content but then Loki’s feelings were always so far from him. Sometimes Thor felt as if when he didn’t have his hands on him he might disappear into smoke and that first morning when Loki had literally slipped from his fingers made his stomach tighten with worry. Loki seemed not to think on his entrapment much but for Thor the threat of it lingered in his mind as every moment might be his last with his dear friend, and Loki was dear to him. It might have been his exotic charms that made Loki so different from every other person Thor had ever met that had endeared him to him so quickly, it might have been Loki’s own attitude, the young man hoarded his affections like dwarfs with their gems and it made ever small motion of friendship seem infinity valuable. Even the mocking seemed to be a gift when it came from him. 

“You are thinking.” Loki noted blinking at him, his body stretched out, his arms behind him supporting his weight. “It is a strange look for such a fool.” ‘Fool’ seemed to be Loki’s favourite description of Thor and the Asgardian was not used to being treated such, even the happy teasing of Sif and the warriors three was unlike this blatant disrespect for him. 

“I think on you.” Thor admitted and Loki grinned.

“What is there to think on?” Loki asked. “You have me before you, your time would be better spent thinking on the morrow and how we shall track you’re supposed worthy prey.” Loki told him easily. Thor wondered aimlessly if Loki was pleased that he thought about him, the Jotun’s face gave away nothing of his mind.

“I wonder what it was that kept you chained in that tower.” Thor told him, in his brightest dreams he imagined Loki being some champion of Jotun who pleaded peace with Asgard and was trapped within the tower for his sense. Thor did not dare share this dream with Loki knowing that he would be mocked for seeing friends where there was only foes. Fandral’s hysteric laughter at the idea when he had confided it in was enough to dissuade him from telling another sole. “Tell me truthfully what sin demanded so cruel a punishment?” 

“I told a truth.” Loki spoke to the fire, his amusement at something far away was a little unsettling. The idea that Loki could find any pleasure in his punishment, no matter how far removed, worried him. “Truth is an ugly thing not made for the likes of me. Lies are pleasing, made for the listener; they bend to the will and paint such pretty and pleasing shapes. No one ever suffered from a well-made lie. But the truth is naked and blunt, it doesn’t move as you wish and cannot be dressed in pretty notes, but chimes ill ordered and off key.” 

“Truth is pure.” Thor defended and Loki just laughed at him.

“Look at me, Odinson, look on my skin, pale and fleshy, pleasing to your eyes, it is nothing more than a lie. If I were to walk as a truth through the golden halls of your home I would find myself at the end of a sword and all of Asgard would cheer the wielders valour. Truth may be pure, Odinson, but you mistake the word pure and the word good. Pure is simple, pure has no explanation, no history, it merely is. Purity and truth lack the depth needed to be useful in life. Lies, on the other hand, are beautifully complicated.” 

“If you will hear none of my sound council perhaps you will hear but a plea. Call me Thor, and not Odinson. Here I come not with the weight of the throne of Asgard.”

“You always have the weight of Asgard on your shoulders, Odinson, it sings in your blood. You are such a fool to cheer for purity and truth and then bid me lie. But since lie is what I do I will submit to your request. You are Thor, unburdened from Asgard, your blood unroyal as mine is pleasing and warm. Thor and Loki, two examples of the wonderful tapestries lies might weave.” Loki smirked at him and Thor began to wonder when he started to find having his whole world unravelled before him so intoxicating. 

“Fine, tonight we live as lies.” Thor gave in relaxing and watched Loki beam at winning his point. They ate the small provisions they had brought with them and drank from a skin of wine. Soon they laid out beside each other the stars above them stretched out like some black sea. Their bodies were laying out in opposite directions their heads next to each other, Loki’s dark strands at his chin. Thor turned his head and watched Loki’s profile as he stared up at the stars, giving each one a name and a history, a story of some sort. Some of them tales of brave warriors, crafted, undoubtedly, for Thor’s pleasure, and some wicked tales of misdeeds, until the sky was a jumble of glorious monuments to the victors and dark prisons for the damned. Thor did not correct Loki when he named some well documented star by a different name after all this was a night of lies, and Loki always made them sound so pretty.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
The beast was near; Thor had seen its tracks. He had been pleased when Loki had raised one eyebrow when he had laid his own hand in the beasts mark noting how it dwarfed his delicate pale hand. Thor was delighted that he could impress him. That, however, was the last he had seen of Loki as the man had vanished into the foliage, the only sign he was still with him the faint rustling of leaves too precise and well timed to be made by a creature or the wind. Thor drew Mjolnir close, she sang in his hand, ready for whatever he needed her for. He trod with care his feet making obscenely loud noises in the leaves as he moved as if every motion was a crack of thunder or a birds call announcing his presence.

It was after a long time that he caught a glimpse of it, some little slash of white, no bigger than a pinprick in the thickness of the trees. For a moment he thought it was Loki but everything inside him told him this thing sought him harm. He tensed and then it came for him. It roared and broke through the clearing pushing aside two trees as if they were saplings, their ancient forms splintering as they were heaved over, roots half ripped from the ground. It was easily three times his size, its fur a dark grey dappled with white to hide it in the light spotted forest. It stood on two legs its back stooped over, its spine curved around and hunched at the shoulders. Its face was similar to that of a wolf but its snout was stubby and blunt, its jaw forced to gape wide to accommodate the huge protruding tusks curving up from its bottom row of teeth. Its eyes white hollows in face. Its arms were long and gangly, the fur more sparse and tufted along its forearms, its claws were three huge blade like instruments made for slashing. But the most terrifying thing about it was its horns; huge evil things curving up from its temple and slicing back, its hunched stance made it hard to tell if it was about to charge at him or not. 

Thor sent out a hopeful prayer that Loki was in safely, that he might watch Thor take down this beast with awe but need not come within reach of any of the creatures impressive weaponry. Thor gave a mighty yell and rushed forward but his target shifted out of the way. It was fast. When he had heard of a beast that was slaughtering whole villages Thor had known he had to hunt it down. His father had been pleased that he sought to protect the kingdom, but little was known of the creature. He had not expected it to be so fast. But Thor was a warrior and soon found his baring, he was forced to as a huge claw came his way, he blocked it with his hammer and tried to get a better position. It was gruelling work; the beast never gave up attacking him with a combination of its arsenal never letting him catch his breath, never allowing him a moment to secure his position. The more it went on the more the beast was starting to tire him. He sent a look to the heavens wondering if he might bring down the lightening but it was impossible; with all the trees he would start a fire that might wipe out the whole forest and Loki was somewhere in there. He wondered if Loki might send for help as much as it irked his pride he might need it. He managed a blow to the creatures left but it only hit the creature’s claws making a terrible screech as it rubbed hard bone against metal. 

Suddenly there was a zing in the air. The creature stopped and Thor stared as it groped hopelessly at its neck the artful handle of a throwing knife embedded in its flesh, not deep enough to sever the windpipe. Thor was about to use the moment to fell the beast when there was a flash of black and a whipcord thin form dashed from a high tree. It leapt through the air one hand gracefully clasping around the embedded blade and then with one twist it pulled up, dragging the blade as it went and flipped right over the creature, tearing from the base of the throat to the top of the chin in one sweep before landing behind it gently with no more sound then the rustle of leaves. The creature breathed wetly for a moment and turned on the dark form of Loki. It moved weakly, its time obviously coming to an end, dark red blackening and matting the fur all down it’s throat. It made one last lunge, but Loki was too quick, it had ducked its head to charge those huge horns aimed at Loki and flung itself forward. Loki just gripped them tight in his hands and twisted a horrible noise of bones cracking and then the creature fell pulling Loki off his feet slightly as he retained his grip on those deadly horns. Loki looked at him once he was positive the beast was dead, his normally prim appearance marred by a dark smear of blood running over his face and the wicked look of joy making his lips curl.

“You were right, Thor, a worthy creature indeed.” He commented running his hands appreciably over the curves of the horns. “These particularly are very impressive.”

“Loki!” Thor breathed out in amazement as the Jotun started to skin the beast before him paying no mind to the blood that wet his sleeves or the vile odour of the thing. 

“Yes?” Loki smiled pleasantly as he had removed the fur at the scalp.

“What did you…? When…? What are you…?” Loki seemed to wait for him to finish his sentences but when it became obvious he wasn’t going to he just sighed and dropped the creature giving Thor his full attention.

“Honestly Thor did you think me some helpless little whelp? Do you even know what beasts make Jottenheim their home? Now if you could please do something useful I would very much like to take these horns back with us.” Thor swallowed once against the memory of Loki moving so quickly and with so much force but he moved forward and used Mjolnir to break apart the skull carefully leaving the horns intact. Loki smiled at him wiping the blood from his face. “Maybe you will listen to me now next time I watch you spar with your fellows.” All Thor could do was nod back, there was something about seeing Loki in this light that made him even more intriguing.  
~~~~L/T~~~~


	3. Playing the villain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laufey and his heir come to Asgard and Thor finds out Loki's secret and a little of his plans

Part 3 Playing the villain

“Don’t move your back foot like that!” Loki called out to the Odinson. “You could not have a more obvious tell if you tried, fool.” Thor glared at his advice and Loki felt a surge of happiness at irritating him. 

“You know, I do not take that kindly on you donning the symbol of the beast that nearly ran me through.” Thor called back glancing at the golden horns that now, a whole month later, adorned Loki’s head. In truth he didn’t know why he wore them, perhaps as a reminder of the fact that he was still powerful, that these Asgardians should not take him too lightly. He ran a hand over them, curling his fingers around them in a way that bordered on the obscene. 

“I am rather taken with them. Besides, why should I not champion my victory?” He called back and the glare he received from the rest of Thor’s little cohorts did not go unnoticed. The closer the Odinson became to him the more his friends resented him, especially the woman Loki noted with glee, and after their hunt Loki and Thor had been inseparable. “If it had been you that had slain the creature no doubt the tales would have rung from here all the way to Vanaheim. ” He laughed and the glares increased. He wondered aimlessly if at some point the Odinson might have to choose between him and his fellows and if so which side he would choose. Thor opened his mouth to speak again but was stopped by a soldier, limping slightly, just outside the training ring. 

“Jorun!” The Odinson called to the soldier and was greeted by a small and stately nod. “How goes the war?” He asked. Loki’s attention was immediately caught. The Allfather had been quite determined to keep any news of the war far from Loki’s ears. That did not mean he was unable to find some way to furrow out the progress by himself, but it was a hindrance. He suspected that this was why the Odinson had been kept from the battle’s himself. The Allfather was obviously worried that Loki might abuse this knowledge in some way. He should not have been so concerned, Loki would not have aided his kin in their little grudge, his loyalty was to his own preservation and amusement, and peace held such better opportunities for mischief than war ever did. He had been a little disappointed that he had been denied the opportunity to make up some elaborate fiction about Jottenheim should he have been asked about their defences or terrain. 

“It goes on.” Was all the soldier told him a glance spared for Loki, and Loki was glad for the suspicion, life was so boring when he was trusted. Not many knew of his true birth in Asgard, but a good soldier, a true warrior could sense something not quit right in his presence. Loki found it very amusing. He might have told them that the battle would go on for as long as Lauefy lived, the Jotun’s had their honour and the casket had been stolen from the heart of Jottenheim and this was an affront the king could not allow to go unrevenged. Still there was hope for the future should the old king be slain. Thor hung his head slightly and Loki watched with curiosity disguised as contempt. The Odinson wanted peace as he did, the blustering son of the Asgardian king grew weary of the battles he noted or perhaps it was guilt that he had befriended one of the frost giants that his people slew. He certainly was an interesting creature. The soldier made haste away from the group and Thor strolled casually to Loki to meet him.

“This war goes on too long. Both sides loose too many.” He proclaimed as if his words should be enough to halt the battle immediately.

“Both Asgard and Jottenheim have many sons to sacrifice.” Loki shrugged pleased at the horrified expression on Thor’s face. 

“Have you no care for the dead?” Thor asked his face scrunched up and desperate for Loki to show some heart, it was pitiable really. 

“I have many cares, Odinson, I care for my stomach to be full, for my movements to be unhindered, and for the third step in the northern tower that might at some point today come loose and make some poor fellow trip. But the dead? Nay, they are no care of mine, for they are beyond care.” He explained and Thor frowned at him and then sighed.

“The third step you say?” He asked a little amusement back on his face.

“Aye, indeed it may even be the petulant scribe from your father’s court that finds himself the unfortunate victim of such an embarrassing tumble.” Loki hinted with mischief. Thor had no love for his teachers, especially the scribes that ate into his training time by making him sit in quiet scribbling out lessons that the Odinson would forget a moment after completing. It was easier to coerce the Odinson to misdeeds when they were against one he deemed against him, and Loki suspected that the Odinson was pleased by the idea that Loki acted out his mischief on Thor’s behalf. 

“Well I suppose someone should go and warn him then.” Thor mused grinning, offering Loki his arm. There was a small indignant cry from his friends at his departure.

“Indeed.” Loki ignored them smiling up at Thor who beamed back at him as if he was not the dark creature he knew him to be. “Or at the very least watch.” With a cackle he looped his arm under Thor’s and they wandered off for mischief. But still he wondered at the soldier, there was something off in his stride, some secret he was hiding, the stink of Loki’s father pulsed off him in waves. Loki would have to investigate later, but for now there was a scribe who needed to be taken down a peg or at the very least taken down a step.   
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Thor had to apologise at his lateness to dinner, something he was loathe to do. He and Loki arrived breathless from mirth. The scribe had been halfway through a long sermon to some of his fellow scholars when he had tumbled down a step that had ‘miraculously’ moved at the worst possible moment, he had ended on his backside his hat bouncing down the stairs as if making some daring escape. He had to admit some of Loki’s diversions were pleasant enough and the light hitting the tall golden horns he now wore proudly made him quite a sight as he giggled in the shadows next to Thor. Also he had clutched him to keep from falling to the ground in his amusement and soft cool skin had brushed against Thor’s. Loki was so sparse in his touches that this simple motion set something off deep within Thor that could no more be explained than it could be denied. 

“Apologises, Allfather, we tarried and forgot the time.” Loki supplied coolly. Thor left the wicked wonderful creature to explain them, his own lies always sounded hollow and false. 

“It is no matter.” Odin replied looking almost pleased at the two. “Though you would have been averse to have missed this meal for I have pleasing news.” Thor turned to him giving his father and king his full attention. “On the morrow, Laufey King arrives, there is talk of peace.” Thor’s heart swelled for peace was what all involved surely craved. If peace was established between the two lands than perhaps Loki would not be looked upon with as much scorn as he was. Thor was desperate for his long time friends to accept Loki into their hearts, this however did not seem possible while Loki’s kin still slaughtered the Asgardians. He even harboured secret dreams in which Loki walked through Asgard his skin blue and his eyes red, displayed to all and hiding nothing.

“Peace?” Thor questioned his smile bright. “Do you think it possible?”

“Perhaps.” The Allfather conceded. “What think you, Loki?” The Allfather’s one eye fixed on the Jotun. Loki picked up his glass already filled with sweet wine and took a measured sip.

“A man might easily spill a jar of needles in one sweep while picking them up takes time and much care.” He mused seemingly to himself. “So too might wars be started with one act but it take a hundred to end.” He smiled amicably at Thor. “Still there is no end to a task without a beginning.” He acknowledged.

“He comes without ceremony; merely his eldest son.” Odin told them and Thor felt Loki tense for a moment unbidden. “This bodes well that he comes without his guards, it speaks of trust.”

“Do you wish for me to meet with him, Allfather?” Thor asked hoping the answer would be yes, he wanted to stand by his father’s side as he championed for peace.

“Nay, I meet him alone as is agreed, but his son has expressed some interest in you. If the talk goes well perhaps you will be called upon to meet them, perhaps not. But you have not the head for such business yet, my son.” Odin explained. Thor could not help but feel negated by this, it may be true that he was not a diplomat but one day Asgard would be his and he would be the one meeting with kings and lords. It felt wrong that he was denied this especially as Laufey’s son was allowed. The dinner moved to more simple things.

“Your horns are such pretty things.” Frigga cooed over Loki’s ornaments and the young man grinned at her thankfully, a slight nod of his head an acknowledgment of her praise. “Tell us once again how the beast fell?” She implored and Loki, ever the story teller set down his glass to submit to her request. Thor laughed at the idea for he had heard the tale many times over and very few of Loki’s tales actually reflected the fight he had born witness to.

“Indeed, Loki, do tell us all.” He nudged at his friend noting how the allusive creature allowed him more and more contact as the days went on. “Shall the beast be breathing fire in this tale or was that only to boost your regard to Hogun?” Thor teased and Loki lifted one eyebrow to regard him.

“If you had slain the thing you could tell the tale any way you pleased.” He sniffed but his eyes showed his merriment, and merriment was such a pleasing look on the young man. 

“Now do you want my story or not?” He asked.

“Please, do carry on for even vexing words are sweet from your lips.” Thor told him.

“Thank you, Odinson.” Loki smiled once more at him before beginning. “I did not capture sight of the thing until it was well in its battle with the Odinson. Several moons had risen and fallen since the two first met. It was a large beast, twice his height and three times his girth. It flung itself at the Asgardian warrior with the determination of a thing wont to kill itself in the pursuit of its foes death. It was hardened from battle, a lifetimes dedication to the art of war blinding it to anything else. Huge horns marked it as a killer, a creature of the charge that would lower its head and see nothing but its target once its attack had begun. An ugly thing, twisted from perfection by stubborn violence and yet from its mangled heredities came a wondrous mark. For its back was made a cunt, open and gaping, birthing a set of glorious wings that would have made a more fitting home on a creature of greater patience and virtue. But it tucked these wings away, trapped them, furled them tight and flightless, impotent, confined to only watch as the beast drove itself to futile sports. The creature gave no pause in its attacks and sought to ware down the Odinson even if it would take an eternity, and so did I move from my place in secret shadow to aid the prince of Asgard. It lowered its head and blindly thrust itself towards him; it was then that I caught the beast. A sharp dagger as silver as a liars tongue did I push into its lowered cranium splitting the creature from its own thoughts. From the shadows did I leap and unseen push the blade until the creature gave its first pause, its pause to die. It staggered a moment, unsure, and then fell. But in its last death racked breaths it spread its wings, large and glorious, white feathers of peace draping over the cold and vicious creature as it lay dying, free at last to billow in greatness. And so was the creature slain.” Loki finished with a flash of green over his blue eyes in the direction of the Allfather who merely looked at him with curiosity. 

“Well told, my friend. Though I understand not how I could have faced the creature such a while when we but three days from departure to return. Still, I never tire of hearing you tell that tale, though that may have something to do with the fact that you never tell it the same twice.” Thor cuffed him on the shoulder and he laughed at him.

“Of course, what use is a story told more than once? Tales can teach us so much and rarely is one tale of enough weight to fit all lessons.” Loki told him. 

“Aye.” The Allfather agreed. “Though it seems passing strange that men would use tales to teach what honest and plain words would do as well.”

“Plain and honest words tell only the simple the lessons they need. Fictions teach the wise man, for he gleams best he who must look the deepest.” Loki grinned mysteriously and the Allfather quickly changed the subject to Thor’s training.

Loki was strangely quiet after the dinner as he and Thor walked to one of the halls Thor liked best. There were plush seats and a roaring fire to sit before. Loki sat down before it not feeling the heat of it even as it brandished his face in amber glow.

“Do you think I shall meet the king and his son?” Thor asked, silence from Loki was as unusual as days without light. 

“Are you in such a rush to meet them, Odinson?” Loki asked his head tilted.

“Aye, I would call to them for peace.”

“Yes, you would, your hammer at your hip.” Loki smirked at him. “Tell me what will you do if Laufey king is not so moved by your entreatment?”

“He comes for peace, it is no more noble for us to slay him while he visits than it would be for him to use a call for peace to bring murder to our house.” Thor declared, angered at the idea.

“And those dead you cared so much for this morning…think you that they would judge your act of vengeance on them dishonourable? Or would Valhalla light up with the cry of joy?” Loki mused darkly.

“You would have me kill him?” Thor questioned and Loki laughed almost sweetly.

“No, my fool, I would not.” Loki kicked him lightly, just a scuff of boot against boot. “Though I guess we shall have to see what the morrow brings.”  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Thor was brought forth to meet the King of Jottenheim and his eldest living son, Helblindi, in the late evening after the talks had dwindled painfully unresolved to a close. The Allfather would not bare to stay with the Jotun king a moment longer and Thor was left to an audience with the king and his son without so much as a guard by his side. As always where Thor went Loki followed, hidden mostly by Thor’s bulk.

“King Laufey, Prince Helblindi.” Thor bowed low to them both. Loki slipped from behind him and gave an elaborate display of a bow.

“Your highness.” He simpered.

“Son.” Laufey muttered back and Thor turned to Loki in shock. “He did not tell you, Odinson? It comes as no surprise. I did wonder what force took you from your imprisonment.” Suddenly Helblindi drove forward around his father as if to strike Loki.

“Does it please you to wear their skin, brother, to lie to sight as well as to sound?” he accused, spitting anger at his brother.

“What am I if not a lie? I am Frost Giant, yet I am stunted. I am King born, but not a prince. Tis not it fitting that I be Jotun yet seem Aesir?” He asked goading his brother, his voice as always merry and light.

“You vile serpent! I thought that I knew the ends of your betrayal. But here to see you stand with our sworn enemy, you disappointment me. You, who killed our brothers, still you disappoint me.” Helblindi’s anger was a physical thing sending his limbs out in wild gestures. Loki in contrast was perfectly serene.

“Me?” He placed one hand on his chest to show his innocence. “I thought they slew each other. Did not we both, and indeed all of Jottenheim, see them waste their lives over the affections of a wench? Did not honest and noble combat kill them?” The contempt was thick in Loki’s light tones.

“But it was from your mouth that the squabble was born!” Helblindi screamed back.

“And so had I not spoken would that fair maid not have laid with both of our brothers? Was it my tongue that gave it truth, or rather was it the act itself?”

“Your words turned horrid deeds to horrid deaths and for naught but your own pleasure.” He accused.

“Believe me you know nothing of pleasure, brother, especially not of mine. Our brothers knew the consequences of their acts, and there is not a soul in Jottenheim who knows not the risks of doing dark deeds under a magpie’s eyes. I see the deeds of Jottenheim, and I may speak them, but I do not birth them.” Helblindi’s jaw clenched in anger and he moved forwards his sword pulled from its sheath a terrifying jagged thing made of ice and dwarfish magic. It’s pommel larger than Thor’s forearm and its blade more than his height. Thor however just drew Mjolnir from his belt and stood before Loki.

“You will not harm him.” He growled.

“You seek to protect him?” Helblindi scoffed. “You know not what he is! He is a vile conniving beast of a liar. Who deserves worse than ever he got.”

“He is under my name in this house. You will not harm him.” Thor repeated. Laufey laid one hand on his elder son’s shoulder.

“This is enough. The prince has had his say. We shall leave for now.” He commanded. Helblindi sheathed his blade and glared at Thor seriously.

“I have respect for you, Prince of Asgard, you are well met on the field. I give you this council, rid yourself of this parasite, or you will find your neck to be slit in the night.” With that they walked off, the king not even giving his son a backwards glance as they met the guards to escort them to the Bifrost. Loki just laughed and called out for his brother to end his theatrics. Thor turned to Loki a surge of anger in him.

“You are a son of Laufey?” He demanded his hands going to Loki’s shoulders and squeezing tightly.

“Indeed, bastard born and a runt.”

“Why did you not tell me the truth?” Thor asked and Loki slipped from his grasp laughing.

“You still give too much credit to truth, Odinson. Let me explain, say you and Fandal go on the hunt. Fandal hits none, you strike a god of a beast, its horns twice the size of a man, its flank thicker than a ship. But it falls, through unfortunate fate, down into some unseen crevice. When you arrive back home you tell of your hunt. But Fandal claims it was but a paltry catch, barely six hands high. You both swear to your truths, but since there is no proof, nor any way of measuring the beast even when he was in sight, there is no way to pick one over the other. There is no truth.” Loki claims opening his empty hands as if showing Thor the nothingness of the matter.

“You speak of tales, what you kept was fact.” Thor told him glaring.

“Fact is nothing but opinion given too much credit. I weight not fleas with ‘fact’” Thor shook his head in distaste.

“Tell me, with all the truth you can, did you kill your brothers?” He asked his voice disappointed.

“No.” Loki told him blandly. “My eldest brothers…they shared a lover, I simply informed them of this. They became jealous of each other, one soon challenged the other to a duel for her attentions. It ended badly, with mortal wounds. I never lifted any weapon to them, nor would I of.”

“Why?” Thor asked moving as close as Loki would let him, but the creature was even more evasive than usual and swished away to a chair and slumped down.

“For Helblindi.” Loki smiled to himself.

“Explain!”

“I will have him King.” Loki told him with a smirk. “He shall reign well. He will seek no wars, but if violence does draw him, he will not shy away from it. He will not be deaf to sound advice, nor the words of his own heart. Why should chance of birth cripple our realm and place an unworthy heir in a rightful ones place?”

“Knows he of your acts?” Thor asked bewildered, he had never thought such manipulation possible.

“Nay. For if he did, he would condemn them. And in this he shows his greatest strength. Let me be the viper and him be purer for it.”

“Even if he hates you for it?” 

“Indeed.” Loki grinned hooking his feet over the arm of the chair and leaning back elegantly. “I am his greatest champion and yet he thinks me his gravest enemy.”

“Tell me, will you have his ear once he is king? Will you manipulate him still?”

“Nay, he will have none of me. But we are kin, no matter how he roars honour stops his sword from crossing mine. Despite his amusing little play, he has had more cause and more opportunity to slay me than today. He will have me banished and I will have my freedom.”

“And where will Loki go?” Thor asked kneeling before Loki’s chair.

“Anywhere and nowhere and all that lies between.” Loki sung swishing his hands.

“I would have you by my side, if you would stay.” Thor offered in a quiet voice and Loki turned to him. 

“Sweet fool.” Loki brushed his hand over Thor’s brow as he spoke. “You should heed my brothers words with more care. Loki did never breathe but to exhale a lie.”

“I think you cast yourself too much in ill thought.” Thor told him. “For even your shadowy deeds were born of good intent.”

“What knows the shining sun of shadows?” Loki asked running the back of his fingers of Thor’s face. “My sweet dearest fool, you rally for my soul even as I bend you to my will. If you had any sense you will banish this shadow from your sights.”

“You think yourself a shadow, I would name you the moon.” Thor mused. “For you have such light.”

“Forget you that the moon glows only from the light of the sun.”

“Then the moon would do well to keep the sun’s company.” Thor smiled at him gently and Loki laughed, lifting himself enough to throw his arms around Thor.

“Aye, indeed it would.” He agreed.  
~~~~L/T~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure if Loki's story really worked as it was supposed to be about his father, his brother and the war on Asgard, it took me a few attempts to get it feeling right but it was frustrating as it had to go over Thor's head. Sorry if it didn't work. Also I just want to point out that the conversation between Loki and Helblindi was actually the very first bit i wrote for this story! Oh also sorry for the use of the c word (is it worth even censoring myself now?) but it kinda fit.


	4. A more honest craft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor gives Loki a job and a title rattling the Jotun who is unused to such things, made worse by the affections starting to grow deeper between the pair.

Part 4 a more honest craft

“You knew and you never told me?!” Thor accused his father. Odin glared at him with his one eye and said nothing. Behind him Loki reclined calmly on a plushly cushioned chair, the Jotun had said nothing as Thor had shamefacedly told him that they must tell his parents of Loki’s birth. His father, however, had just nodded his head and told him he already knew. “Since when?”

“From the first day he was brought before us.” Odin told him and Loki sighed and heaved himself up to his feet brushing himself down.

“You certainly lack follow through.” He commented to the king, not an ounce of respect in his manner. “I would not have revealed you. You should have sat there and gasped in outrage as my true lineage was brought before you. ‘Never’ you should have exclaimed, your dear lady wife swooning in shock, ‘an affront to our noble house that you would keep your sire’s most horrid name from us!’ You might have even used it as an opportunity to kill me, it might make up for the rather poor decision not to when I first arrived.” 

“I will not lie to my son.” Odin snarled down at Loki who raised one eyebrow.

“So you do not count omission as falsehood, useful to know.” Loki mocked and took his place by Thor’s side, laying one hand on his shoulder. Loki’s hand as always was slightly cool and a pleasant weight. “Come now, Odinson.” Loki smiled up at him and he felt the hot resolve for anger fade in him. “They meant no harm and nothing has changed between us, a slight without victim is no slight at all.”

“You are a prince, Loki, and I dared to argue for your equality with me, as if it was not yours without debate.” Thor told him frowning.

“I am no prince, I hold not the name Laufeyson. I am Loki, it is all I have and all I need.” Loki laughed at the idea. “Have you ever seen a Jotun of my ilk?” He asked and Thor shook his head. “Do you wish to know why, Odinson?”

“I do.” Thor demanded his hands reaching to grab both of Loki’s.

“Food is not as plentiful is Jottenheim, the sick, the mad, the crippled; all those who are not deemed of worth are leeches sucking at the resources we cannot afford to spare. So they are killed. If some accident of birth should create a runt it shares a similar fate. The bitch that birthed them is ripped apart, a blade of ice tearing her from sex to gut, to make sure she bares no more withered fruits. The babe is cast out, unnamed, all honours of his father stripped away and left for the cold to eat. I am such a babe, but the cold took me in as a prize and raised me as its cub. A dark shadow to befall on the house of Laufey when I was strong and bitter enough to return.” He told him grinning like a savage. His father however seemed unimpressed.

“What? No snakes? No crows? No crones? Why, no blood at all. Tell me, liemsith, is this tale any closer to the truth than the others you have told?” Odin accused his eye cold on Loki who merely smiled back at him.

“The Odinson knows me well enough to know that my truth is not as plain as the words I speak, but rather in what they tell.” Loki defended himself casually, but his back was taut. Unthinking Thor reached forward and grazed his back with the tip of one finger, it was enough to make him turn and give Thor a small smile.

“If he does it is because of your poisonous teaching…” Odin started but Frigga stopped him by raising from her seat.

“Enough of this squabbling. Loki has done naught to earn our rage, and if he is capable of teaching Thor than he deserves our acclaim, indeed.” She gave a little grin to her son.   
“It is well known fact that the Jotun send their runts to die in the frost, how Loki survived is his tale to tell. If he wishes to say the night sky took him hostage and fed him on starmilk that is his own business, and not for us to judge.” She said imperially. Loki blinked at her a moment.

“Starmilk…” His face broke into a grin. “I rather like that. If you do not mind the plagiarism I shall have to use that.”

“Not at all.” Frigga smiled. “Now away with the both of you, I need to have word with the king.” Loki nodded and before Thor could say anything a cool hand grasped his and tugged pulling him away out of the throne room. Thor stared at Loki as he followed him down the hall, his eyes bright flashing green over the blue every so often with the magic bubbling inside him. It truly did not matter that he was Laufey’s son. What did burden on Thor was the role that Loki had given himself. He had fashioned himself as a villain to aid his brother in succession, doing what was best for the land by the only means he thought he had available. Thor wondered what Loki might have done if he had been given honest means to aid his countrymen. A surge of determination broke through him as he vowed silently that he would never let Loki feel that the shadows were his only means of persuasion. He leapt forward throwing Loki off balance with a little noise before he giggled and sped up, the two of them racing down the corridors of Asgard as if they were nothing more than children and not the seeds of kings.   
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Thor paced nervously outside of Loki chambers a week later. They had agreed to meet for a morning stroll around the gardens. Loki had laughed at his request saying ‘do we not meet every day, Odinson, do you check with the rooster every night to make sure he will crow in the morning?’. But Thor had been too determined with his suggestion and Loki had been too visibly curious to deny him. Thor always felt a surge of joy when Loki did not deny him, he suspected that the few times he did were simply to keep him wanting. It had taken Thor a while but he had finally figured out the problem that vexed him so. On this day he would reveal his plan to Loki. He hoped without question that the Jotun would be grateful. Unbidden a dark heat settle inside him at the thought of how Loki might express that ‘gratitude’. He did not deny that he thought Loki lovely, had thought so the moment he rescued him from the accursed tower. But it was one thing imagining soft pale limbs against his when there was no one to shame him but the night and his own bedchambers, and another entirely to bring these scandalous imagining’s to the door of his friend. Even worse than the images of Loki, the first ever flush burning over his face as pale white turned pink with heat, were those of colder skin, of blue under his fingertips, of melting against each other with the same slick slide as the ice cube on Loki’s hand that first morning, and red eyes pleading with him. Thor clenched his hands making a mess of the precious bundle he held and swore as wrinkles dug their way into his precious present. 

“A little early for such language, Odinson.” Loki laughed and Thor turned his head from his bundle to the man before him. Loki as always looked pristine. He wore a long velvet robe with matching black hose and large leather boots that he managed to walk in as if they were elven suede. The only detail of his outfit was the delicate green stitching of two fearsome snakes woven into the robe and curling up his torso to his neck as if they meant to drag their fangs into the pale expanse of neck that was laid bare. It was thin thread and only visible as the light hit it, much like the green that overtook Loki’s eyes from his craft, one could only see it if one took the time to really look.

“Loki…” Thor breathed out his name and watched as Loki’s pretty mouth quirked upward with glee for a moment before he collected himself. “No horns today?” He asked in mockery.

“Nay, we take a stroll around the gardens, I do not wish some poor unfortunate sole to mistake me for a cow and think to bring me to the butchers.” Loki grinned at him and they made off to the densest parts of the gardens. The same wild tangle that they had spent that first day aimlessly running exalting in freedom. Thor offered Loki his arm clumsily trying to keep hold of his bundle at the same time but Loki just laughed and tucked his hands behind his back looking more the prince than Thor with his awkward bundle and darting expression. They passed Frigga on their way and she gave them a warm smile and nodded her head before continuing to her tapestries. Loki found a tree to his liking and with two graceful motions leapt into it laying himself out on the branch and smiling his joy. They were far from the palace now and none of the noise of the kingdom reached them. This part of the garden had none of the order of the rest of the grounds but had a swirling chaos to it that Thor had never before looked on with affection as he did now. But it was beautiful, over hanging trees dripped silvers leaves like gossamer sheets down from the skies. Vivid slashes of colour boomed from delicate looking flowers, entwined with thorned vines that gripped and encouraged the flowers to rise up with them over wrought iron arches. Even the grass beneath his feet seemed different, velvety, and pale in colouring, but growing tall and sharp in occasional clumps by the trees. Loki seemed in place here and that was what Thor wanted.

“Loki?” Loki hummed his acknowledgement of Thor’s call and shifted to drape his body over the branch his head hanging low and near the prince as he looked up at him. “Do you find Asgard to be beautiful?” he asked.

“The elves have crystals that grow from the ground like flowers. When the light hits they breed little rainbows of light from every edge. The dwarves have rivers of liquid silver that harden as they lap against the shore, leaving half formed waved by the banks like lovers drawing in for kiss. Even Jottenheim has walls of ice that sweat and freeze so quickly that the very palace itself seems to shift and shrug like a restless beast.” Loki told him his hand swishing where it hung. “There is beauty everywhere, Odinson. Though I must admit no place shows is beauty quite like Asgard.” He conceded in a contented mutter, his eyes on Thor.

“It has come to my attention that you have had little to do here.” Thor started awkwardly and Loki shifted until he could slide down to the ground and land near Thor. “You have been my companion all this time but have had little that is your own to claim. I would change that.” Thor unfurled his gift a long green cloak he swirled it around Loki’s frame and settled it on his shoulders. Without a pin Loki was forced to hold it in place, his hands shockingly pale and beautiful against the dark colours of his robe and cloak, it reminded Thor of the few times that the snow came to Asgard. “I had this pin made for you.” Thor took out the little pin, it was his symbol, the hammer, fashioned of gold but behind it was the curve of a crescent moon of silver. “With this you go with my might, you speak with the authority of the prince of Asgard, and no man may challenge that.” Thor told him and pinned the little ornament to Loki’s chest keeping the cloak in place. 

“I speak with your authority?” Loki’s voice came out slightly broken as it tried for his usual mocking tones and Thor dared to look at his face. He was so open in his bewilderment, the look made Thor smile. “That is hardly a clever plan. If you must bear the responsibility for my voice you shall be hung for mischief by the days end.” Loki laughed nervously his eyes on the ground. 

“I wish to have you as my advisor, now and when the throne is mine. You need not move me with deception, only speak and I will hear.” Thor promised him with utter sincerity. “Do you accept?” Loki just stared at the ground another moment before lifting his head up. 

“I go where I wish, Odinson. Never have I kept this from you.” Loki told him. “But while I am in Asgard and even when I leave, if I have council for you it will be yours.” Thor’s heart leapt at the idea, Loki had said yes, the rest was not in his mind to hear.   
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Loki scowled as he looked at the pin. It was more a chain than the shackle that had been latched to his ankle in Jottenheim. He knew that the Odinson had not heard his warning that Asgard was not where he would lay himself forever and it made him frustrated. There was a time that he would not have cared in the slightest, would have claimed that Thor could keep his delusion, and he would use his misguided affections for as long as it was useful and then slink away to the next place. He had sworn when he first came to Asgard that this was just an asylum until Helblindi was king and Loki would be sent away from Jottenheim. No longer yoked with the responsibility that even the bastard son of a king must bear. Here he had sought a port in the storm to wait out for freedom and now he had allowed himself to be yoked by the affections of one fool. Loki tore the pin from his breast and held it in his fist meaning to hurl it at the wall, maybe burn it until it held no shape by which to move him, freeze it until ice covered that well-meaning symbol and it was distorted by the cracks of a frozen case. 

“Loki!” Thor’s voice called through the door halting his hand. “I go to a tavern with Sif and the warriors three, do you come with us?” There was a pitiable amount of excitement in his voice like a dog yapping at the sight of its master. Loki opened his mouth to refute him, to growl at him to leave him alone, but at the last moment he pulled himself together. He was Loki, he was not moved by trinkets from well-intentioned fools. He swung wide his door and smiled at Thor, telling himself that it was the smile of a liar and that he took no pleasure in the golden prince before him.

“Not this night.” He refused with an appeasing smile and tried hard to not notice the frown of disappointment on the Odinson’s face. The Asgardian heir was quick to sorrow and even quicker to forgive. He spun the pin in his fingers making a show of vanishing it between his digits. “Some fool has given me a boon of power and this shadow must spend at least a night contemplating how he might use it for ill.” He teased making sure his voice was light and free. Thor caught his grin and returned it.

“Surely a creature such as yourself does not need a whole night to contemplate such things. Why I wager that already you have a fleet of dark designs conceived and bypassed.”

“Perhaps.” Loki smirked his most mischievous grin as if he was letting Thor in on some secret. “But one can never have too many schemes, Odinson.”

“You walk with my power, Loki. Your schemes are ours now, shared in equal parts.” Thor told him and for a moment Loki almost faltered, he had not expected the Odinson to consent to joining him in misdeed but rather beg and plea for their dismissal. 

“Then return in the evening, we shall meet in the library, and you shall hear my plans, if you think your pure heart can take the burden of their hearing.” Loki told him slyly. 

“I think you may be surprised, Loki, it seems I have a fondness for dark things.” Thor told him and had the gall to lift one of Loki’s hands to his mouth and kiss the back of his knuckles gently, as if he were some courtly maiden. Loki resisted the urge to slam his fist into the fools face and instead smiled politely and shut the door before more could unravel from under him. He pressed his back to the door his mind racing away from him. He tried to tell himself that this was good, he would use this blunt and foolish hammer, wield it like a knife for his own means, he would unleash such plans of darkness the likes of which Asgard had never seen and all from the security of the golden princes command. All he must do now is actually think of the plan. At his side his hand seemed ablaze and he ghosted his fingers over his knuckles. It felt as if the Odinson left a trace on him. A glimmer of paranoia whispered that maybe the heir of Asgard set some plan against him but the memory of Thor's face as he bent to brush his lips against Loki's skin told him otherwise. Roughly he rubbed against the skin until the raw feeling of friction erased the feathery memory of that brief touch. Foolishness, it seemed, was contagious.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
“On your right!” Came the call and Thor shifted immediately not needing to look but trusting his companion to urge him in the right path. His hammer made thick contact with the gut of the creature winding it and he turned to Loki for thanks. The Jotun was already moving again, his agile body shifting and turning, sometimes tucking and rolling his body in the fray in ways a body should not in all goodness move. The knives he pulled from his cloak seemed inexhaustible and found their mark even without the gleam of green he sometimes saw slide through the air with them. Thor moved again to hit another beast and felt his back connect for a moment with something familiar and slightly cold. The feeling of Loki pressed up against him was becoming too common place to justify the joy he felt at it. A breath later it was gone as Loki slid effortlessly along the ground under the haunches of the fire giant and flicked a blade to a most delicate and guarded place of their foe. Loki seemed not to understand the concept to an honest fight and often had he laughed at Thor’s insistence on propriety in battle claiming that the rules were forged by the victor. Thor did not really understand what they were doing, but he trusted that Loki did. The deceptive young man had claimed they were forging a name for Thor over the realms, crossing into others territories and destroying those that sought harm against the inhabitants. Even a scant few weeks into the plan the halls of kings and queens ran with the praise of his name, Loki’s noticeably absent from the recounting. 

“We make a name for you.” Loki had told him once again as they set off. “A name not linked to your father, you need not walk in his graces. When you are king your deeds will be remembered, exaggerated even if we have luck beneath our wings, and they will respect and fear you from the moment you sit upon the throne. You need not waste your first years in gaining trust from lands you might have need to plunder later, it will carry with you from prince to king.” He stooped low and dug his blade into the molten core of the fallen frost giants removing from each a sign of their deaths. An emblem where he could but otherwise darker and more sinister proof was easily made by the nick of a sharp blade and a determined tug. 

“And what of you?” Thor asked brushing the blood from his hammer. 

“I tell your tales.” Loki said with a shrug. Indeed he had, in every court Loki had sat with ears enthralled by his voice, as he forged the battle from his words. Once in the hall of the eleven queen and after a forced cup of fiery spirits Loki had even sung the tale, his voice more bewitching then the call of a siren until all leapt to their feet at the dying note to call cheer for Thor’s might. 

“What of your tales?” Thor asked taking the proof from Loki’s hands and placing them in his bag rubbing at the red stained hands of his companion until the pale white flesh showed through, once more unblemished. 

“Shadows tales are best not sung.” Loki told him smiling casually and retrieving a few knives and placing them back on his person somewhere unseen. “They are often confusing and unsettling things as unpleasant as the truth to the listener’s ears. Shadows are merely echoes of brighter things and best left to tell the tales of others, for there is much greater profit in those stories.” Loki said and took a deep breath of the air of Alfheim, his head tilted to the sky.

“This is not a bad life, is it not?” Thor asked him. “Wondering from Asgard to fell some terror, traversing the realms as if they were but one big stretch of land.” Loki turned to him, the silver of his pin catching the light and his eyes fading from green to blue as the magic released its coil from him.

“Aye, it is almost freedom.” Loki conceded and Thor thought for a moment there was a touch of sadness in his tone before Loki twirled around his cape flung around him wildly and grinned. “Now come, the taverns will be filling for the night and we shall have an avid audience for your victory!” Thor smirked and conceded that he must have imagined the look and followed Loki to the tavern, thinking he could take this life up for all time and never know what sorrow was again.  
~~~~L/T~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda wish that i have added a bit of Loki telling one of the stories, I'm not really sure why I didn't, I had a few in mind but then i just kinda bypassed them. Might have one at the end. I think that Loki and Odin arguing is my favourite bits to write! Also I hope that Thor's attraction to Loki didn't seem to have come from no where.


	5. The dire consequences of peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki gets a letter

Part 5 The dire consequences of peace

Loki burnt the letter. He watched as the words dissolved into the green light he himself called forth, and with a little tip of his head thanked the small swallow that had brought the news to him. ‘the beast dies and the wings are spread, they give you flight’. Nonsense to any other reader but more than any epic Loki had ever penned himself. Loki was not a creature of weakness. He had not shed one tear as his brothers lay before him, their eyes begging for a salvation he could not give them. He had not whimpered as his father took the needle and pierced through his skin to bind him to silence. But now, for all the wrong reasons, he wished he was a frailer thing that he might weep for this. His father was dead, Helblindi was King, he had issued a decree for Loki’s banishment. Loki was free. The one thing he had craved for all those years and it tasted bitter and spoilt in his mouth, he wanted to spit it to the floor, but he could not. Asgard was so quiet; it could not be common knowledge yet. Perhaps the Allfather was the only sole who knew; the king and the little bastard prince of Jottenheim. Before the night was over then, he would leave. He could not think of a thing to do, to say, even to himself and so he sat on the floor, his legs under him turning numb after some time and waited. 

There was a knock on his door, a quiet muffled noise and Loki wanted to laugh at the irony of it. His father’s death was what he had spent years planning and hoping for and the Odinson, for who else could it be, came to him with consolation.

“Loki?” A voice whispered and Loki was a little surprised that the brash tones of the Odinson knew how to pull themselves into such a small and controlled tone.

“Come in.” Loki called pulling a book to himself and made the show as if he had been sat reading for the day, lost in some book that would ,once he was left, be as forgotten as the decades before his arrival in Asgard. Thor shuffled in and closed the door behind him. Loki pretended to be confused at his expression, such pity and compassion in his well-meaning gaze. “What?” Loki asked pretending to fret now. This was easier, this he knew, the show of ignorance that he had enacted a thousand times over through his career in lies. “Does some foul fate befall you, Odinson? Come tell me at once” Loki got to his feet and had to rub at his legs to get rid of the fuzzy sensation gripping his limbs as if lightening had struck his body and still hummed from the power of it. 

“It is…it is your father.” Thor managed after some time and Loki made his face fall though it was not the sorrow in this that afflicted him. “He is fallen.”

“Did he…did he go in glory?” Loki asked, it seemed like the kind of thing that others might concern themselves with at the passing of a loved one. Though Loki knew the secret that the only true glory was living another day no matter the cowardly deeds one might have to do to claw their way through survival.

“Aye, he fought to the last.” Thor assured him.

“Helblindi is king then. Good, he will make peace with Asgard.” Loki muttered and turned away as if he was trying to shield Thor from seeing his non-existent misery. 

“He already calls for it.” Thor confirmed. “All of Asgard will soon ring with celebration.” Thor admitted with an uneasy shift of his feet.

“All of Asgard indeed.” Loki replied with a sigh. “I fear I shall be unwelcome company tonight. Go and join your kin, Odinson, while I mourn for mine.” Loki told him but he knew that the only sole he would ever mourn passing was his own, such was his nature. For a moment he wondered if Thor knew him too well, if he might see through his guise but the Odinson did not. As always people saw what they wanted to see, it was part of what made his craft so easy. 

“If you have need of me, for anything…” Thor started but Loki shushed him with one raised hand. 

“I will call for you, Odinson.” He stayed turned until he heard the door shut again.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Arranging everything to leave did not take him long. He had wanted to take some of the books with him. They would be in better hands with him than decaying in the vaults of Asgard, but his current form was not best suited to his means; so he would take nothing. He made sure to hide those that might reveal him too much if anyone had presence to check what he had been reading. His clothes he left in the wardrobe for cloth is always plentiful and one robe was much the same as another. He laid out his green cloak on the bed, the little pin stuck tight to it. He would not take one last look at Asgard, such sentimentality was beneath him. He took in a deep breath and crossed to the window ledge and prepared to take another borrowed form.

“You are leaving?” The shocked whisper behind him was his first clue, and he cursed that he had been so deep in his own thoughts that he had not heard the door.

“You return far sooner than I had thought, Odinson.” Loki muttered not turning back. 

“I came to see if you wished me to send your meal here and instead I find this.” Thor sounded hurt, angry, betrayed. Loki did not feel guilt, he didn’t, he wasn’t capable of it. The gnawing feeling in his gut must have been something else. 

“You cannot be surprised.” He turned causally, his laziest smile on his face and he made a seat of the window ledge. “You knew all along I was not yours to keep.”

“But I thought that you and I…” Thor started.

“That what? I was your friend? Your companion?” Loki sneered out the words cruelly. “You are an even bigger fool than I took you for, Odinson. You were a convenience. You were a shield to keep me safe. I used you for as long as you suited my means and now I discard you.”

“You’re lying.” Thor accused, his brow dipped and tears of outrage in his eyes.

“I am a liar, Odinson. Every motion of my hand while I was here was a falsehood, enacted to get just what I wanted, and now I need you no longer and the lie serves no purpose.” Loki shrugged. Thor crossed to him and grabbed him by the shoulders forcing their eyes together, Loki made sure to keep his smirk as wide as possible. “Your trust served me well, I thank you, you were most effortless to manipulate.”

“No.” Thor breathed.

“Think what you will, but you cannot keep me here.” Loki reminded him pulling way. Thor moved as if in a daze until his eyes met Loki’s cloak with the little pin stuck in the green cloth.

“You would leave it, as if it is nothing?” He asked his hand ghosting over it lightly.

“It is nothing. Gold and silver are easy enough to barter for, why one can even dig it from the ground in shipfull’s in the land of the dwarves. And a smith can be paid to bend metal to any shape. It is nothing.” Loki repeated, taking his time with the hurtful words.

“It is not nothing to me.” Thor told him.

“Then you keep it.” Loki shrugged again cocking his head as if in confusion. 

“I had it made for you. It meant something because it was for you. Take it.” Thor was almost pleading as he grabbed the trinket and pushed it against Loki’s chest. “Throw it away, sell it, keep it in some pocket never to be seen again, but do not leave me with it. Please!” Thor begged unashamedly as he pushed it against Loki’s chest until the edges pained him. “I could never look on it again, nor bear to throw it away, so please just take it with you.” Loki looked at the Odinson so bare in his emotions, tears on his face now, it came so easily to him. Loki snatched the thing from Thor’s hands and absently fastened it to his shoulder before crossing to the window and taking the shape of a magpie. “Goodbye, Loki, if you should ever wish to return...” Thor whispered.

“I will not.” The magpie returned. Loki spread his wings and tried to remember that he was free, he would cross every sea, travel every land, no one would lay claim to him ever again, no bars hold him, no promise tie him. He was free. The sky cracked above him and the clouds opened. Loki twitched his bird head to where the storm brewed and if he could have he would have sighed, the Odinson was truly a fool.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Thor sighed and stared out of the window the restless hope that some playful shadow might bend and show the sight of Loki coming back, coming home to him, breathed in his heart. But the sun beat down on Asgard unrelenting and no shadow hid Loki for he was not there to hide. After two months Thor was fast beginning to gain a name as one who was without his sense for he would rush at birds as if they were his friends and talk to them until they bored of the sound of his voice and flew away. He kept no one else’s company, took his meals alone, and ate very little of them. He spent most of his time staring from his window. No one asked where Loki was. Thor’s friends did not mention his name but made vague references to him as if he was a man long dead until Thor could bare them no longer and banned them from his side. 

“Come and take your meal with us, my son.” Frigga implored. He had not heard her enter and he saw nothing other than the shapes that moved outside his window, each one not Loki. 

“Nay, I do not hunger.” Thor told her.

“You miss him, do you not, my son?” She asked gently her hand finding his hair and carding through it.

“He is Loki.” Thor muttered his eyes ever searching the distance. “How could I not? Would the sky not miss the moon?” Frigga laughed at him and Thor turned to her with hurt in his eyes at her mocking finally tearing himself from the window. “You mock my sorrow?”

“Nay, son, of course I do not. Every time I look on you I think I shall see the little boy who hid behind my skirts and fought monsters made of hay. But here I come and see my grown child, a warriors beard on his face and talking like a sorrowed poet.” Despite her denial Thor heard the gentle mocking in her tone.

“I have not taken the pen for the sword yet, Mother.” Thor reminded her. “Do you think he will come home?” Thor asked her hope burning in his eyes.

“I think Loki must figure out where home is before he can return to it.” She answered evasively and Thor hung his head. All of Asgard knew plainly what he did not, that Loki was gone and he would have better hope in catching sound in a jar then seeking him and dragging him back. “You may take some comfort, however, in the knowledge that yours is not the only broken heart. Somewhere out there a young man battles his pride against his desires.” She told him and kissed his brow gently. 

Thor sighed to himself and returned to his watching. A few hours later there was a round of loud obnoxious knocks on his door and suddenly Thor could understand all of Loki’s long rants to him about the use of a gentle touch against a doorframe. His heart squeezed at the idea that Loki would never again stand before him imperiously and teach him some vital lesson. He gave no leave for the visitor to enter but they did nonetheless. It was his friends, all of them in the garb of the hunt.

“Thor, our dearest friend!” Fandal exclaimed. “Come we take you from this most dreary wallowing.” He crossed to Thor and attempted to yank him from his seat, Thor however would not budge.

“There is tale of a band of thieves in the villages.” Sif explained and Volstagg behind her helped himself to some of the leftovers littering Thor’s chamber. Hogun just stood at the doorway his hard eyes serious and demanding. “We shall end their tyranny.” She suggested with a smile and her hand went to her sword.

“And none shall tell the tale.” Thor muttered to himself sadly. The group shifted on his floor as if it moved under them and only constant motion righted them. 

“We do not noble tasks for the stories; we do them for they are right.” Sif accused him, not understanding his words. Thor never wanted the stories to booster himself, though he did enjoy Loki’s praise, he wanted them for nothing more than to sit and listen to the Jotun’s voice flow ever sweet to his ears. But slowly he got to his feet.

“I am Prince of Asgard, if some threat lays upon my land I will stand against it.” He vowed and there was a cheer of joy from his fellows. “But I go alone.” He added and they looked at him frowning.

“Come now…” Fandal pleaded. “Do you forget we are your friends, we always went with you on quests before…” Fandal let ‘before Loki’ go unsaid and yet it rang out clear as mourning bells. 

“I wish to go by myself.” Thor told them and then forced himself to smile. “Perhaps when I return we shall go hunting together.” He offered not wanting to leave them vexed at him. They smiled and promised him. Thor let his smile drop as he walked from the palace. Usually when he left on the chase he felt exuberant and alive, the thrill of battle bubbling his blood, now he felt nothing, he even felt he would not care if he never came home again.   
~~~~L/T~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end it like that for now, if i get the next chapter finished by the end of the day (I think i should) then i will post it. If not than tomorrow. Oh, you may have noticed I don't care much for Sif and the warriors three.


	6. when the moon reaches the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki goes home

Part 6 when the moon reaches the sun 

Loki stared at his coins counting them carefully. He cursed himself for not taking more from Asgard before he fled. The life of a magpie was easy and had served him well for a day or two but when the rain did not let up and perching on rain slicked branches all night grew wearisome he returned to his Aesir guise and took to staying in the inns that dotted the paths of Asgard, taking the odd job to keep his stomach full. He clucked his tongue, it would be a while before he could earn some coin, there were tanners a day’s travel over and he could easily kill some worthy beasts and fill his pockets with gold enough to break their seams. But tonight he was wet, hungry, and very short on funds. 

“Fine.” He agreed from between clenched teeth. “I will bunk in the communal room.” He hated such a concession. Such rooms would reek of hundreds of bodies, sweat, bile, and far worse were soaked into the very woods of the place. “But I shall want a decent meal for this coin as well.” He demanded to the innkeeper, a broad women with nothing but two teeth in her whole head. 

“Fine, my dearie.” She agreed and her filthy hand stroked against his as she took the coin from his fingers and moved closer to him until her eyes caught something. “Oh…what have we here?” Her eyes were locked on his shoulder and it took Loki a little while to work out what she stared at. “Why this is certainly a work of great value. My Lord, that little decoration has wealth enough to buy this place from the mortar to the rafters, you need not sleep with the rabble if you have such a pretty price to pay.” She told him licking her lips as she eyed the pin. Loki moved back a little to put some distance between the two of them. He could in all honesty give up the pin, cast it aside now and be done with the whole foolish affair. His hand gripped over it for a moment and then pulled away.

“Bring my meal to me when it is ready.” He told her with as much dignity as he could muster while still wondering why he had refused the comfort and privacy of his own room. A short while later a thin tasteless broth and some admittedly fair bread was brought to him with a cup of ale. Loki detested ale and always drank wine but he sipped a little of it to warm his stomach through and listened idly to the talk around him, listening on the off chance of something sparking his interest. There were trappers travelling north to seek a rare beast but that would take him back nearer the palace. There were soldiers cheering the victory over Jottenheim, Loki tried hard not to glare at them. And there were a bunch of clerks come from the court and returning to their lords drinking far too much and tittering over gossip. It was worthless, every word, until a new clerk arrived, shucked off his coat from the rain and bent low to tell what he knew.

“I bring word from the palace! They say Prince Thor is struck with mortal wound. They say he lays abed and no healers art can knit the gash that threatens upon his life.” Loki froze at the words and leapt from his seat.

“Speak again.” He demanded crossing the tavern to stand before the man. But the speaker just stared at him. “I command you, echo!”

“Prince Thor is struck, he sought some thieves on the edge of the villages, they had with them some sorcerer who laid dark art before him and summoned the very earth to pierce at his flesh, he lays awaiting Valhalla.” Loki breathed the words in like they were poison.

“If you spoke false know that a thousand fold the ailments of which you speak await you.” He cursed before turning to the owner. He undid the golden clasp from his cloak, caring not that it fell billowing to his feet and laid the gift on the bar. “Your fastest mount and greatest haste.”  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
“I am bid bar the door from all souls.” The guard told him. Loki’s rage threaded through his bones.

“You will give me entrance or I will scorch this palace to ash. I will drain the very marrow from your bones and crumble what remains to dust. I will…”

“Let him past.” Frigga spoke ending his rant. Her eyes were blood shot and weary on him. The guard bowed away from the doorway and Loki followed the queen into another chamber where she turned and stopped him. “You are strong in your craft, are you not?” Loki nodded. “I heard once a tale of a father who sought out a pack of fairies to heal his son when no other could save him. They demanded dark prices for his healing. Know now I give any gift for Thor’s life.” Loki’s head bowed low.

“I am not a fairy. Nor am I am a witch. There is only one price for my art and that is my own desires. It is because of this never have I healed a wound save those against myself.” He told her as they went to the Prince’s bed. Thor seemed so large on the bed, bulky now he could not carry himself with his usual ease. Loki lifted one hand to push back some dusty blond strands of hair at his temple, ghosting over his face as he slept, kept from waking pain by some merciful physic that could do no more than make the inevitable gentle. Loki laid his hands on Thor’s chest and then faltered turning desperate eyes on Frigga. “My brothers entered vicious combat against each other, a conflict born of my interference. Passion and jealousy made their swings, so often made against each other in practice, lethal. They were brought to me to heal them. I laid my hands upon them but my power gave me naught. It knew my heart and it knew I wanted not their living breath. My own kin, my blood, and I could not sacrifice one moment of my strength to pull them from the grave. It was for this sin that I was punished.” He explained in guilt. “I must want it truly and without pause or it will not spell.” He swallowed nervously. “I do not…”

“My son is right, you speak too much.” She laid her hand on his shoulder. “I say only this. Tonight I shall set a place for my son at our table, and for you by his side.” With that she left.

Loki’s hands shook as he called up his magic. Healing another was different from healing his own flesh, he would have to heal from the inside out and not the other way around. He felt the familiar glow of green on his fingertips, energy pulsing desperate for command and release. At first nothing happened, nothing at all and tears threatened to take him from his task. He thought of Thor, thought of him in the sunlight, thought of him standing hammer raised to protect him, thought of him that first moment when he had seemed like the brightest being in all of existence, of their goodbye when he had seemed so betrayed, so much wanting to not believe Loki’s lies. He felt it shift, felt bone creak and melt together, felt muscle clench and knit and flesh seal like melted wax. But Thor remained still and Loki thought for one faltering moment that his art had not been enough, that too much blood had already left the golden prince.

“Loki…” A weak voice called to him and a huge rough hand sought out his own, capturing it. Loki let out a dry sob of relief and his head bowed without thought. “You returned.” Thor smiled at him his blue eyes nothing but slits. 

“You damned accursed fool!” Loki spat at his opening eyes. “Even the beasts of the field have sense to steer from their own destruction. But you, you welcome it!” Tears coated his eyes afresh and his voice shook. “If you were a wild thing you would befriend the thistle and thorn and wonder every minute why your skin was wrecked with pricks! How can you forget the lessons of infancy so quickly, skin is supposed to hold your life blood within it, not open it to the dirt as you seem wont to let it!”

“Never was I a quick student.” Thor laughed sitting up weakly. “You shall have to stay and remind me, or else teach me anew that which I seem desperate to ignore.” Thor took his hands again, both this time.

“Fool.” Loki muttered turning away from his eyes. Thor however stared at him anew, his grin spreading over his face and he moved closer.

“Clear now I heard your words. How was I so blind that I did not hear you? Every time you call me that merry word, ‘fool’, you speak to me an endearment. How often have I mused on your delicate and deceptive nature and not unravelled your use of it against me. How cruel you must have thought me to bite back against your confessions of love.” Thor told him lifting his head to nuzzle at Loki’s neck, stubble moving in prickly heat over his skin. Loki sprang back as if some dangerous creature sought his interest.

“Love! In truth my spell has healed nothing. It has diseased your brain. Back with you to bed and no more of this new found idiocy.” Loki moved to stand and push Thor back down in one move. Thor quickly recovering was already stronger than him and gripped his arm to keep them close enough to share a single breath.

“How bold you are that you talk of ‘bed’ before our lips have even touched.” Thor mocked happily and Loki paled at the thought.

“What new madness have you brought with you from hell? There is goodly reason the sun is barred from the moon, and goodly reason you should not press against me so.”

“You call me the sun and yourself the moon. Well, what is the sun if not a star? And do not stars court the moon in her realm of night?”

“’Her realm!’ Forget you that under these silks I have not the trappings of a maid. It is but ice, cold and hard.”

“Hard? Again you talk so bold when the hour is but young. I promise you the night shall have its passions but for now settle you with mornings touch.” Thor had to do little than lift his head to press their lips together. Loki surrendered to it for nothing but a moment before pulling back. Drawing his lips inward on reflex to catch the last of the unexpected taste of the sun.

“Your mother will wish you see you live. Can you hide this new bedevilled thought long enough to calm her?” Loki frowned at him his eyes darting as his thoughts zipped back and forth through his mind. Thor reached for his hands securely and rubbed his thumb over the cold flesh.

“Only if you stay by my side.”

“I think it would be easier to keep this new fever at bay if I were to leave.” Loki muttered looking anywhere but at Thor.

“Really? I have heard that lovers absent from their desires are worse that mewling cats.” Thor laughed pressing his head into the crook of Loki’s shoulder and the Jotun had to shrug him off and move hastily away. 

“I will get her.” Loki muttered his face crumpled with confusion. 

Loki found Frigga in the hallway pacing and she looked at him with the desperate eyes of a mother. Loki stared at her for a small while, he had never known his mother, but he assumed that if ever he had seen the sheer amount of affection pouring from her eyes as was coming from the Asgardian queen’s it would have been an unhappy burden to him. 

“Does he…?” Her voice was tight from crying and it reminded Loki of his own shameless display of relief at the Odinson’s awakening and he thoughtlessly rubbed at the corner of his eyes.

“He lives.” Loki stated as blandly as he could. Frigga’s face rushed to a smile and then she flung herself bodily around Loki, her arms wrapped around him in a tight embrace. Loki had known touch before. His wrist had been gripped at the arrangement of some, seemingly, honest deal, and also in some cases gripped to restrain him for punishment. His brothers had latched onto him to drag him and pin him to the ground in the occasional contest. And Thor had used every opportunity since they had met to lay hands on him. This was different, this was desperate and emotional, and Loki could only stand uncomfortable until it was over.

“Thank you.” She breathed out against his shoulder before pulling away and Loki gifted her with a smile that looked true enough despite his rather bewildered state. 

“Come and see him.” Loki issued a delicate command and led her by the hand to her son’s bedside. The mother and son embraced a long moment while Loki kept his eyes on the top right corner of the room, his eyes tracing a particularly elaborate piece of decor as he attempted to give them some privacy. 

“You look so well.” Frigga commented brushing Thor’s hair with her hands. “It seems as if the memory of you laying so struck was nothing more than a bad dream.”

“Indeed, it is, thanks to Loki.” Thor smiled at him and Loki glared back a warning. “Mother…” Thor implored his hands on his mother’s own. “…there is something I wish to say.”

“Your son wishes to apologise for giving you such a fright.” Loki supplied in his most amicable voice.

“Indeed I do.” Thor admitted. “But there is something else, mother, I wish to officially state my claim of courtship of Loki, and beg your blessing.” Loki felt the world spin under him and he was lucky his legs did not give way altogether.

“Oh.” Frigga blinked in surprise and looked at the young men, Loki opened his mouth to make some excuse for the Prince’s foolish words. “Forgive me, my son, but is not this all rather belated? I thought you had been courting Loki for months. Did you not bask often in each other’s company? Did you not rarely speak of anything else but Loki? Did not you follow him with your eyes as if he was all there was to see? And did you not succumb to love sickness when he left?” Frigga gave a little laugh. “If I gave not my blessing to you both I would have made my position clear.” Mother and son grinned at each other as if in one mind.

“I am glad, mother, that I have your approval.” Thor claimed solemnly. 

“Both of you dwell in madness.” Loki muttered and then strode forward his head held high, he was not one to be easily ruffled by such things. “I have seen you well, Odinson, now I must depart.” Thor’s eyes went wide with terror and he started to struggle from his bed.

“Loki, please!” He begged.

“I…I will return.” Loki told him refusing to face the Odinson. “I have one or two things I must settle, and then I will return.” He looked over Thor critically trying to imbue his look with all the casual disinterest that he could. “I expect you to rest while I am gone and not allow any reckless foolishness to take you over. It was not an easy thing healing you, and any wound you shall incur I will take as insult against my efforts” He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to look imposing. Thor just grinned back at him every inch the fool.

“I will do whatever you command if your return is my reward.” Thor told him sincerely, then beckoned him forward, Loki took one hesitant step forward but then just bowed his heads a fraction in goodbye and fled the room, and then the palace, the wings of a magpie taking him faster from his confusion than his feet ever could have.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Thor watched as the object of his affection rushed away from him. He stared after the gap in the door until it slid shut and any last trace of the Jotun was blocked from view. Alone with his mother he sighed.

“He thinks this is but a symptom.” He confessed sadly to his mother. 

“If it is than he himself is the disease.” She laughed and Thor frowned at her making her shake her head. “Forgive me, my son, but I do rather think this is just. I had worried that love might never befall on you. You love your home so dearly and your fellows, I feared that was to be your lot. It gladdens my heart to know that is not so.”

“How long have you known?” He asked.

“Perhaps longer than you.” She admitted. “I watched you look at him and sometimes it is easier to see the hearts of others.”

“And what of his heart?” Thor asked desperately. “Is that within your sight?” Every so often Thor had entertained the hope that Loki might look on him as something more. That he might give his trust to Thor. And now that he had one tiny piece of him, had pressed their lips together, there was enough desire in him to drive him to madness. If he had the strength he would have pulled Loki to him and kissed him until Yggdrasil withered but coming back from deaths boundaries left him feeling weak and slow. He only hoped he would have another chance.

“He came to save you, if that is not love it is certainly affection. He came with no lie, no tale, no barter, he just came.”

“And then left.” Thor added petulantly, he did not wish to feel this way but Loki’s absence made him feel like there was a gap, a void. 

“He will return.” Frigga promised Thor and he knew it was true, but it did not stop him from lamenting the man’s departure. “And when he returns you must be ready. This new affection of yours has bewildered him. You must move with more caution and a gentler touch.” Thor frowned in serious contemplation of this. Thor was a creature of action. He had wanted Loki since the beginning and the more time they spent together the more of the young man he had wanted. To move with care was not his way, but for Loki he would try.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Loki gasped in pain as the sharpened root thrust up from the ground and pierced straight through his shin shattering the bone and pinning him in place. He let his head fall back and panted hard, a twisted smile on his face. There had been those in Jottenheim that had thought he gained some perverse pleasure from pain. Those people were fools. There was no pleasure in this, not for Loki. But there was the feeling of familiarity. Loki had been small, weak, and his reappearance in Laufey’s court had been an unwanted surprise for all. He had not been deaf to the whisperings in those early days ‘he is but a small thing, whatever ill-luck kept him from death it will claim him soon’. Then as he got older it wasn’t enough to survive he had to be as good as his brothers. Whatever feat they could do he had to match, if not better. Tasks they took to with ease nearly tore his body apart but he would not stop. When magic had come to him it was supposed to mean an end to pain, but this was sadly not the case. Some pains had to be submitted to for the greater good. He had not fought as his father bound his lips together and likewise he had to endure the dizzying feeling of having his leg split open by a root. He had to make sure he had the right mage.

“You have some art.” His foe admitted looking over him with an gaze that spoke of a pompous confidence. “But not enough.” The magician was a little shorter than Loki, his head bald but indented with ruins, and Loki scoffed at the idea that such a method would add to the craft, he knew a showman when he saw him. He felt an odd kinship with the man even now impaled on the mage’s weapons, winching as another came down through his shoulder from behind, for it seemed to the rest of the realms the mere act of magic was nothing without the garish displays that went with it. The two roots heaved in opposite direction threatening to rip him in two and momentarily taking his mind off his task as once again pain seared through him. “I am the greatest mage in all nine realms, I cast off my name and gift myself with that which shall give me power. I name myself prince-slayer for it is I who killed the son of the Allfather.” He cackled highly and Loki let out a smirk, his posture relaxing as if he didn’t have roots the size of spears burrowing through him. 

“Did you not hear?” he asked lightly, conversationally. “The Odinson lives.” He told him. 

“You lie! I saw him dead; the wounds my roots inflicted were deathly strikes.” He yelled back snarling at Loki. 

“So it was this art that you visited upon him, that is good to know.” Loki replied off-handily. One of his hands swept up and laid itself on the root in his shoulder touching it almost in a caress. “That’s enough now, little one.” He purred to the root and felt both of them slide from his skin. “The Odinson is under my protection.” Loki muttered as the wounds knitted themselves leaving nothing but the gapes in his clothing as proof of what had been. “Of course you were not to know. But still it is a mistake I cannot overlook.” Loki grinned his teeth gleaming in the Asgardian light, sharp and white and wicked. The mage went to flee forgetting all craft and skill in his fear but Loki was quicker, one lunge found the unfortunate thing in Loki’s grasp. He held the mage close to him, his neck wrapped with Loki’s pale slender hand, his eyes going even wider as the skin darkened and turned blue, the colours of nightmare in Asgard.

“Please, please don’t kill me!” The man begged. Loki chuckled deep in his throat. He had killed his first many years ago, the name and face nothing more than a childhood memory, not one he took fondness in but not one that horrified him either. Certainly he could kill this pathetic waste of a creature, the one that, had he not intervened, would have taken Thor’s life. 

“I’m not going to kill you.” He whispered dragging the man close and letting his lips ghost over the man’s ear. “I have far better things in mind for you. First, I shall take everything of worth from you.” Loki smiled and his eyes lit up with green stealing dominance from crimson red, he dragged the magic from the mage’s body. He could have been gentle, but he was not feeling kind. Instead he dragged it out letting the rough edges scrape and burn the edges of the mage’s innards. He tore it away from his mind leaving blown gaps where arcane knowledge had been, head splitting voids where he could have just left hazy recollections. Finally all the power was his, it was not much of a boost he realised bitterly, the roots had been an easy spell more effective in surprise and strength than complexity. “Now you shall wander all the realms and in every tavern you shall sit and you shall speak in exalted tones of the unconquerable strength of the Odinson, and the terrible fates he brings on those that face him. If you should pass a single tavern and not tell of his might I shall know and I shall return.” Loki commanded and the man tried his best to nod his agreement. 

“What…what if they refuse me?” his voice quivered in fear and Loki had to bite down the urge to snap the pathetic things neck. 

“They will not.” He laid his free hand on the man’s face, his palm flat and slide up, his fingers spreading leaving his index finger and middle finger either side of the man’s nose and then higher until they rested at the very corners of his eyes. Loki felt his eyelashes flutter helplessly against his digits and he smiled. “No one turns away a blind man in need of shelter.” With slow steady grace he pushed and did not stop until it was done. He let the man drop certain that he would not fail in his task. He changed once more into a magpie and took to the sky, turning in the direction of…home. In the direction of Thor. It was a strangely pleasing thought, he just hoped the Odinson knew what he was getting himself into.  
~~~~L/T~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really really like evil Loki. I don't know why but my favourite Loki's have always been those with a bit of a violent nature so he will probably always be like that in my stories, I don't have the heart to domesticate him.


	7. Part 7 courting a liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is in denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey i want to thank everyone who commented and left kudos. You're great! Thank you so so so much!

Part 7 courting a liar

This time when Loki came back Thor was ready. He was waiting at the entrance to the palace looking hopefully at the sky. For two whole days he waited, not moving from his spot. His mother brought him food and drink and tried to coax him inside; reassuring him that Loki would return when he was ready. She didn’t understand though. Loki thought that Thor’s affections were just an effect of nearly dying, he would have to prove himself to Loki. Thor knew that the Jotun would not be easily convinced, his allusive nature had been cultivated by a lifetime of being denied and rejected. Thor knew it would take valiant effort to convince Loki that he was honest in his affections. It was this thought that kept his tired legs from straining as he stood night and day in his spot. It was this thought that silenced the voice in the back of his head that reminded him that there were warm soft bed inside and soothing ale. He wanted the sight of him waiting diligently to be the first sight that welcomed Loki home.

“Ah, there you are.” A voice called behind him and he spun to see Loki, his hair wet and slicked back impeccably, the smell of cinnamon soup radiating off him, and dressed in one of his soft dark green tunics, a light leather bag strewn over one shoulder.

“Loki!” He huffed out in surprise drinking in the sight of him back where he belonged. “When did you return?”

“An hour or so ago.” Loki shrugged in his usual casual manner though Thor could see the beginning of a mischievous smile start on his lips. “Tell me, Odinson, why do you stand here? Does Asgard have so few statues that it must beg its prince to stand as decoration?” He asked smirking, and Thor had missed that smirk, the way it lit his eyes up and spoke of things unknowable and dark. 

“I was waiting for you. Your absence was a pain worse than even the wounds you healed me from.” Thor told him and moved forward enveloping the Jotun in an embrace. His body slide against Thor as he pressed them together, the slight chill of Loki’s skin cooling his own where little patches of naked flesh dared to push against each other. He pulled back, his hand moving as if of its own mind to the back of Loki’s neck, cupping the slender base of Loki’s skull. And then before he even knew what thoughts drove him he was pulling Loki towards him and pressing their lips together. It was nothing really, perfect and chaste, a soft dry touch of lips. But it was everything. Loki tasted like nothing else, the slightly bitter sweet tang of apple peel mingled with the smell of cinnamon whispering off his skin like it was baked into his flesh. It took over his mind and he wondered if Loki would protest another kiss, something deeper, something more. 

Remembering his mother’s words he pulled back. Loki was not some tavern wench to lure to his bed for a night of passion. If he was to get Loki he meant to keep him, forever if the man would let him. He took a hasty step backwards trying to regain himself; and refused to look Loki in the eye.

“Remove your tunic.” Loki issued his command, his tone telling of no doubt of compliance. Thor lifted his head in shock his mouth dropping open. It was one thing to press a noble kiss of affection of the object of his attentions lips another to let his desires be open to all of Asgard. Thor opened his mouth to reject the idea but Loki was looking at him, one eyebrow arched, and he realised that where Loki was concerned there was no question in his obedience. With an agreeable nod he removed his vambraces, letting them fall to the floor with a clang and then loosened the ties at his collar just enough to pull the item from his body and drop it to his feet. He stood before Loki his chest bared to the slight breeze drifting through the golden city. Thor knew well that he was pleasing to the eye, had been told so his entire life. And since entering manhood he had cultivated and maintained a warriors body, and yet never did he feel so unsure of himself than displayed at that moment for Loki’s scrutiny. Loki however was not looking at him; instead he was rifling through his bag looking for something, his brow furrowed. After a brief search that went on just long enough for the last threads of Thor’s confidence to peter out to insecurity Loki lifted an item victorious and held it aloft. 

It was a small vial, a simple unadorned thing, and inside was a thick red liquid. With his perfect slender hands Loki pulled out the cork and dipped his middle finger into the vial coating it wetly with the red liquid. It was only then that he turned back to Thor and even then it was with the cool calm eyes of a scholar assessing his work. The touch began at Thor’s collar, a thin trail of liquid dripping off the chilled skin of Loki’s fingertip. It swept down the centre of his chest flicking and scrawling designs on his skin. Thor knew this was not an enticement, that whatever purpose Loki did this for, it was not to ensnare him. That did not stop it working. Everywhere Loki touched seemed to leave behind a wake of tingling nerves, that branded whatever dark art Loki worked over his skin, disappearing whenever he had to dip his finger back into the vial like a quill to an ink well and returning with greater effect every time that digit came back to his flesh. When he deemed himself done Loki stepped back and poured what was left in the vial onto his palms and rubbed them together, the dark red liquid staining them the same colour as when Loki wet his hands in the fray, it was only then that Thor recognised the sharp metallic scent of blood in the air. Loki stared at him, his eyes giving over to green as they always did when he used his craft. His lips moved delicately and words beyond Thor’s understanding whispered from his mouth. The markings on Thor’s chest seemed to warm for a moment and then faded into his skin, seeping into some place inside him. Satisfied Loki smiled and backed away.

“You may put your tunic back on.” He allowed magnanimously and Thor simply laughed and complied, clicking his vambraces back on with a satisfying click when he was done. He felt invigorated as if he was just waking up from a good night’s sleep, every lingering ache and pain from his injuries gone. Thor wondered for a moment if he should ask what Loki had just done but he had a better question on his mind.

“What did you go for?” he asked slipping in by Loki’s side and taking his arm in his. “What matter was dire enough to take you from my side so soon after you returned to it?”

“I returned to Asgard, not to your side.” Loki told him haughtily. “This new fever is your affliction, do not think me infected by this foolish disease.” His eyes flashed in the light. 

“Besides, even if you asked what makes you dream I would speak anything other than a tale?”

“From your lips I would take a tale. Whatever lies you might tell there is always some truth secreted away. Thinking on it will give me some comfort in the hours I find myself alone. For the only hours sweeter than thinking on you are those spent by your side.” He told him. Loki stared at him a long moment his eyes suspicious and confused.

“Fool.” He spat out after a long while but he did not dance away from Thor’s grip on his arm. “During my time away from Asgard a sorcerer stole away with some item of mine. An object I coveted with fierce vigour. Nothing more than a worthless trinket really, but enriched with pathetic sentimental value. He used his art against it and under such clumsy craft it shattered. I could not let such an affront go unpunished, and so I sought him out and shattered him, I let the wind take his body that it might whisper in every ear it passes the dangers of harming that which is mine.” Loki told him a dangerous warning in his eyes tempered by a friendly grin.

“Did you fix it?” Thor asked concerned and Loki looked to him almost surprised. “Your keepsake?”

“Oh yes, for it would be a poor sight for the realms to see me with some broken junk of a thing.” Loki said with a slightly proud smile. “I do not covert things that are beneath my interest.” He declared then turned to Thor with sparkling eyes. “Now come, if you have been fool enough to loiter at your own doorway you surely will be in want of a good meal.” 

Thor allowed himself to be dragged along to the dining room. He could not help but feel a stab of envy at whatever object meant enough to Loki for him to seek such vengeance for its misuse, he only hoped one day he would be as dear to him as that blessed object.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Loki was confused. He was sat at the great dining table of the Asgardian royalty trying to stare at Thor whilst looking as if he saw everything but him. This had all gotten very out of hand. Coming away from his freedom to save the Odinson’s life was one thing. That was a matter of principle. Any true mage should have been able to feel the lingering after effects of the original ward he placed on Thor on his first day in Asgard. The idea that someone might have sensed that and still attacked Thor was a personal affront and challenge to his skill. Of course the ward was only in affect for as long as he stayed in Asgard but the remnants should have been enough to warn any that a powerful wielder of seidr had interest in the Odinson. It was personal pride and that alone that had drawn him to ward the Odinson with his own blood, nothing more. It did not help matters that across the table Loki could literally feel the smug grin of Frigga on him. Loki was not used to the feeling that someone knew more than he did, that was his role. 

“So, you are returned.” Odin’s voice broke through his thoughts and he turned a wide insincere grin at the king.

“Or else madness makes you address an empty seat. Tell me, Allfather, did you miss me so much that your grief conjured my visage to please you?” Loki smirked, this was better, this was something he knew. 

“Is it good that you have come back, Loki.” Frigga cut in across her husband allowing the Jotun to grin in victory. “Tell us, what did you see in your travels?” She implored.

“Oh, yes, please do tell us all.” The king muttered darkly. “We have had nothing but truth to content ourselves with in your absence.” He barked and Loki threw him his most sympathetic look.

“Truth alone?!” He gasped, his face pulled up in shock and horror, one hand grasping for Thor’s arm. “Tell me this is not so?” he pleaded and Thor nodded his head laughing at his little display. “Why, whatever must have happened? Asgard must be trembling full of the hurt and enraged, for truth is so blunt and clumsy an instrument it cannot help but smack and thump, where well placed lies caress and sooth.” Loki grinned. “A world of only truth would be a world in which no man could face the words of his neighbours, but quiver in fright as they awaited the decimating utterances that could lurk on the edge of every intake of breath.”

“Only villains fear the truth.” Odin snarled back.

“Nay, for only those without heart have nothing to fear from truth. It is for love of all that I sweeten my tongue on lies, and not burn those I hold dear with acid truth.” Loki took a sip of his wine and it almost felt as if he had never left. A wave of happiness surged over him at the thought and he bit it down, he was not glad to be back, that was not how he existed. “But your darling lady wife asked for the tale of travels and I keep no sole from pleasing words.” He bowed his head to her and she smiled back.

“Please, do go on, Loki.” Frigga gestured to him getting herself comfortable. He felt Thor’s eyes bore into him from his right and he swallowed under their affections. He could not remember the last time that anyone looked on him like that.

“When first I left I took the shape of a magpie. It is a pleasing shape, of use to no man and no man’s foe, for they make displeasing prey and companion alike. For two nights I flew unresting as rain was born from every sky. Sucked up from seas to leave them dry as if the world sought to remake itself and change earth for water. Finally, when no more could I stretch my wings to beat, I took a refuge. I found some pleasing farm and choose as my perch the furthest barn. At first I was met with silence, a wonderful fragile thing that breaks even with the utterance of its name, even in praise. But soon there came a great noise, two dozen hounds, their muzzles white with froth, their eyes lit with hunger, roared into the barn, and took it from its peace. By the mark of night in the sky and quiet in the fields it was obvious that the hunt had been long over, but the bells of peace are easy to ring but hard to hear when the vicious clamber of war has beaten too long at the ears. 

Without the guide of master they did seek out blind for their hunt, these rabid things, and soon I feared I would look like a pleasing shape to set against, or else some innocent creature of another’s ownership and start a feud between families that sat in peace. I saw from my perch upon the rafters that hanging down was a lamp, it swung and danced with stolen images and cast itself upon the wall, this gave me pause. I flew to the lamp and whispered to its flame.

‘Come and see these hounds, violence heats them so much that they hunt without their masters bidding, violence without thought never led to anything pleasing. Dance in their image for me if you have care for the peace of this night.’

And so the flame took up a sway throwing the image of the hounds against the barn as if some great and giant creatures from hollow winter walked towards the barn, their shadows cast before them. In alarm one of the hounds took up a bark. The noise lifted to the rafters and repeated all the way to the sky. Up again I flew and begged of the echo.

‘Sweet echo, lend your voice to me and circle that one violent noise in ever repeating notes to keep these foolish hounds from the calls of those they might think prey.’

And so that one bloody thirsty cry did call up endless to the night. The hounds delighted, they had found their pray, they need not venture into less hospitable grounds when at their door was worthy game. Out of the barn they fled, but found nothing but the air until one heard a cry, and not recognizing it as his own, followed after the bark back into the barn. Round and round they chased their tails till morning light hit and weary bones and muscle tired even of vicious sport, and back to their master these hounds did tred. I thanked the flame and echo and took myself back to the sky settling on with nothing but peace under wing.” Loki ended with a grin, his eyes purposefully on Odin in warning. 

The Allfather looked back at him suspiciously. Loki found it ironic that those he sought to harm usually named him a pleasing fellow, and those he tried his best to help looked on him as if he was a shadow given flesh. Perhaps the one exception to this was Thor. The thought chilled him and he did all he could to not look at the enraptured face of the Odinson. 

“So, these hounds, you say they sought to hunt even without their master’s call?” Odin asked swirling the ends of his ale in his cup while Loki returned to his wine.

“Indeed.” Loki told him casually. “They had been hunting their prey for many a year, an end without sufficient blood shed was not ending at all to them.”

“Were they to well trained?” Thor asked Loki and the Jotun nearly laughed at Thor thinking they still spoke on dogs and not men.

“They were good dogs, they had just been too long in the hunt.” Loki told him reassuringly.

“These hounds, where did they sleep?” Odin asked his one eye narrowed in thought.

“To the east where the villages lie far apart and mostly keep their own council.” 

“I will think on sending a patrol out there, we cannot have hounds seeking blood roaming free.” Odin admitted.

“Indeed, Allfather.” Loki conceded with a knowing nod of his head.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
“So, what now?” Thor asked looking over at Loki, the night was approaching and Loki had just had to give up his attempts to read as they stretched out on the grass. It was amazing how quickly things had returned to normal. Diner had been a little battle between Odin and Loki, with Loki taking the victory just by the fact that he was more than willing to keep going until all others submitted, and afterwards Thor and Loki had retired to the gardens to enjoy each other in peace. Frigga had given Thor a small smile as they headed off, and he wondered a little anxiously if she had told his father. Thor was not naive enough to think that his father would be pleased to hear of his plans toward Loki. But even his father’s fury would not dissuade his heart, and so Thor did not feel the need to concern himself with such things as his father’s displeasure. Especially at moments like this when he had Loki stretched out in front of him, the grass merging with the green of his cloak until it seemed as if he was nothing more than pale white slits of skin and dark black lines. 

“Now, we go inside so I might continue with my book.” Loki announced, getting to his feet and brushing the excess grass from his legs. Thor joined him on his feet and grabbed his hands, it was a little awkward with the fat tome Loki had insisted on bringing with them, but he managed.

“No, I mean the future, what do we do now you are back?” he asked searching Loki’s eyes, desperately pleading with him not to say that this was all temporary. For a moment Loki looked unsure and then he smiled.

“Why we return to how things were, you and I shall once more venture forth and carve your name into the hearts of beings in all the realms.” Loki told him with conviction. 

“Ah, yes, it shall be a pleasing sight to see you once again done your pin and show yourself as of my house.” Thor grinned, he had not seen the pin since Loki’s return and was a little anxious to see him claimed as his own. Loki however just looked away.

“Ah, yes, about that…”  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
It took them only a day to reach the inn on the palaces fastest mounts. But it seemed much slower work than when Loki had fled to the palace, made such seeming sluggish by the Odinson’s sour mood. But they arrived and Thor gestured for Loki to follow him, his anger seeping away with each sheepish smile that Loki gave him. It was a little pathetic how easy it was to prod him into forgiving him without even apologising. Thor bustled his way through the crowd, Loki following in his wake, and thumped one huge hand on the bar to get the innkeepers attention. Her face split into a gummy grin as she welcomed him, no doubt smelling the money on him even if he did have all marks of the son of Odin hidden from view.

“A few days ago my companion here gave to you a pin of gold and silver. It is a trinket of great worth and I will pay double its value to have it returned to me.” Thor pleaded his voice pathetically earnest and Loki tried his hardest not to roll his eyes. He did not, however, try hard enough and Thor caught him. The second that the innkeeper agreed and hastily made her way to the back to fetch it he turned on Loki with what might have passed for vicious eyes. “I cannot believe you sold it!” He accused in a harsh voice. 

“I sold it to ride back to the palace to save your life.” Loki reminded him. “Do I not earn some softening of your anger for that? Besides, was it not you that told me to do with it as I wish? ‘Throw it away, sell it, keep it in some pocket never to be seen again.’ We those not your words?” Loki accused him.

“I only said those words that you would deny them. Any other would have sworn that they would never taken it from their body, would have claimed to look on it every day and think of the one that gifted it to them.” Loki looked at Thor and laughed.

“You said that so that I would talk to you in pleasing words?” He sniggered. “Thor, when have I ever softened my words with you? From the day we met you have had my hardest talk, have born through me call you fool almost upon the hour. Why would you think that now of all times I would give you soft talk?”

“I would not be your death to talk sweetly to me.” Thor grumbled and Loki laughed all the louder.

“Oh but Thor…” He started mockingly. “…it was not with pleasing words that I, apparently, won your heart. Who knows if I were talk softly to you perhaps your affections would wane and you would carry fondness for me no longer.” He ended with a mocking giggle.

“I do not think that my love would not bare through some kindly words for you.” Thor frowned and Loki clasped him on the shoulder trying to keep back his merriment.

“Oh nay, it is not worth the risk!” He claimed with over exaggerated gravity.

“Here.” The innkeeper returned with the much dirtied pin and Thor gave her as much gold as she asked without so much as haggling the price. He handled it back reverently to Loki who wiped it with distain a few times before deeming to clean enough and unfastened his cloak, removed the plain silver clasp, and slide the pin into place. Thor settled his cloak about him unnecessarily, his large hand brushing against the skin of Loki’s neck as he smoothed out the folds of the cloak.

“There, you are mine again.” Thor whispered and Loki smiled up at him. He mused to himself that the ride back would be more enjoyable if the Odinson was in good spirits and since he was a creature of lies and deceit it would be nothing to agree to his words. Besides it was a lei for his ends, to make the trip back more agreeable to himself, he acted not to please the Odinson, and a lie for his own amusement was a lie of the highest calibre.

“I suppose.” He answered , and true enough Thor was a much more pleasant companion as they rode back to the palace.  
~~~~L/T~~~~


	8. A trip to Vanaheim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Loki go to battle a great beast in Vanaheim

Part 8 A trip to Vanaheim

It was amazing how quickly life settled back into a routine. Thor got up, met Loki for breakfast, then they might go their separate ways for a few hours, Loki to the library and Thor to the training ring, and then return to each other for the rest of the day. Though Thor had announced his courting of Loki to his mother very little had changed in that aspect of their relationship, mainly because whenever Thor did start to broach the subject Loki would ignore him and pointedly speak of something else. Still there were little things that Thor could do to win his stubborn prize. 

Thor came across Loki near noon, he had been sparring with his friends and then bathed, having remembered the way that Loki detested the smell of dirt and sweat, and if he used some of Loki’s favourite scents then that was purely a coincidence. Loki had not been in his own room, or in the library, or in the gardens, instead he had been laid out across one of the sofa’s in one of the common rooms, a cup of evil smelling tea in one hand and a letter in the other. His blue eyes were tracing the words obsessively, a bright grin on his face, a grin that spoke of nothing good. 

“Good news?” Thor asked standing in the doorway trying to catch Loki by surprise the way the sneaky young man had caught him many times. Loki however did not so much as flinch and instead his grin just widened.

“No, terrible news, horrific even.” He lifted his eyes to Thor and they glittered by the light the fire. Since he had been old enough to seek out romantic company Thor’s partners had always been of the same ilk, nice sweet maidens who blushed at his advances and then succumbed with glee. Maidens that would press against him and gasp out his name, innocence burning in their gaze. But now those thoughts vanished from his mind, and instead he could only dream of wicked knowing eyes grinning at him, cheeks that even the hottest fire would not heat, and that hard lean body wrapped around his like a trap. “But very, very good for us.” Loki ended with a smirk. “A great and fearsome beast has been eating whole villages in Vanaheim, and you have been requested by name to end it tyranny.” Loki handed over the letter as Thor strode forward. The slender man moved aside to let Thor sit by him leaning in close and sipping at his tea, his breath brushing distractedly against Thor’s neck. Thor forced himself to look at the letter and then turned to glare at Loki.

“This letter was wrote to my name.” he pointed out chastising. Loki looked at him without a trace of guilt and shrugged.

“Your name but our purpose.” Was all the explanation he gave for a moment before grinning at him. “Besides since I have known you not once have you lifted a book, I had thought reading was not one of your skills, Odinson.” Thor gave him a small jab with his elbow for his mockery and then looked through the letter until he came upon something that made his heart drop.

“This claims the beast is Nidnoggr.” He whispered, Thor had heard of the beast many times, it was a dragon of such might that it gnashed its jaws against the very roots of Yggdrasil.

“Oh, that is merely speculation.” Loki shrugged again and then settled himself back in the sofa, his body curled around his cup. “How could any man truly name it Nidnoggr when none have ever faced its might and lived?” Loki pointed out.

“But many have faced it and met their death.” Thor growled back, his hand tightening around the letter. Loki scowled at him displeased before dumping his cup by his feet and reaching for Thor, laying both hands on his shoulders.

“Where is my brave fool? Whoever has taken him and replaced him with a coward give him back or he will lose all his meagre worth to me.” Loki mockingly called to some unseen force hanging in the air. Thor could not help but grin and reach for Loki daring to pull him close so that he sat nearly in Thor’s lap. The man resisted a moment, his body stiff before turning plaint and slinking his light weight down over Thor’s knees. 

“I am no coward, it is not my life I take care for.” Thor told him seriously staring into his eyes hoping to press some of his worries into Loki. The young man just scoffed.

“Oh yes, for I have not proven myself in battle, have I? Do you wish me to fetch me horns?” Loki moved as if to get up but Thor kept him still with his hands on his hips. He could not help but trace the bony ridge of his hip with his thumb, imagining how the bone might jut out invitingly if he could but see under Loki’s dark robes. “Look, either it is Nidnoggr in which case we shall slay it and it’s death will forever be laid at your feet in glory, or it is not Nidnoggr and we shall slay whatever beast troubles Vanaheim and name it Nidnoggr.” He gazed into Thor’s eyes dark, wicked and serious. “Do you not understand that they asked for you by name?” Thor could feel him impress his seriousness with a slightly painful grip on his arm, all it did was make his blood run fast in his veins. “This is the start, Odinson. Soon all the realms will ring with the glory of your name, and when you are king they will bow to you, and Asgard will be the highest seat of power.” Thor reached out and pushed back a few dark strands of Loki’s hair.

“And you will be by my side.” He promised in a whisper. Loki gave a little noise of amusement and flung himself off Thor’s lap.

“Of course, what use is giving you power if I cannot exploit it.” With a devils grin he whisked himself out of the door to prepare for Vanaheim as if it had been decided. Thor blinked uneasily at the door Loki left through and re-read the letter. Part of him took great joy in the idea that he would be the hero to slay the great Nidnoggr, but he worried for Loki, if anything were to happen to him Thor would never forgive himself. Still if he were to leave him behind Loki would never forgive him.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
They had been three days in Vanaheim and Loki had every reason to be in poor spirits. He was beginning to think that they had been led on a wild goose chase. The idea that someone might have tricked him, and he, in his excitement, had not even realised rubbed at him. But the sun shone mildly in Vanaheim and they trod through rich green forest and slept out with the stars before them, unnamed and untold just waiting for him to give each one a purpose. He had even been in good enough spirits to let Thor choose some of the names or suggest stories for him to weave for them. For his part the thunderer seemed content that they had not met the beast. Nidnoggr certainly was a step above disposing of the odd band of fire giants or trolls, but such was their mission and Loki could not bear the thought of another stealing their glory from them. 

Since Thor’s decent into madness Loki had noticed a few changes. For one Thor seemed to suddenly not be able to abide the smell of himself and covered himself, far too richly for Loki’s taste, in the most foul smelling concoctions. Under the thick clawing base Loki could sometimes pick out apples and cinnamon, much like the scents that he preferred himself, but used in such a way to bombard the senses and marring them almost beyond recognition. He also suddenly could not dare to catch even the barest glimpse of Loki’s flesh and would avert his eyes as if catching a maiden readying herself for bed. While Loki had never been one for exhibition, he trusted that his form was best complimented by a thick and dark wardrobe being that his Aesir skin was so pale, Thor had seen him in a state of half undress before without turning and blushing. Loki found it rather amusing and could not help but take advantage of it. He sat by the small stream they rested at and flung his tunic from his body catching Thor’s eyes on his skin before he turned to the side. He turned his tunic inside out with a simple flick of his wrist to examine one of the knives hidden inside it critically, shifting it, although of course it was perfectly aligned, Loki himself had sown those sheaths into his clothing. He rolled his back slightly.

“Odinson, come and make yourself of use!” He barked out, pleased that the tall blond figure jumped at his command. Thor approached him almost timidly, a man not sure what his next act would be, and looked down on him. Loki arched his back gracefully noting with amusement and mild confusion the way that Thor’s eyes darkened, he could not imagine it was that pleasing a sight. “I fear one of my blades has been rubbing against my skin. Tell me, is it marked?” He asked his head over his shoulder. To his surprise large calloused hands reached out and slid the expanse of his back, lingering on the approximate line of his blades.

“I had wondered where you kept them.” Thor mused quietly to Loki’s back and the Jotun began to think that perhaps he had misjudged this situation terribly. “I was in half a mind that sheer will brought them to your hands.”

“Sometimes it does.” Loki whispered back grinning. “It is always best to have more than one way to reach your weapon, Odinson.” Thor’s hand lingered on Loki’s back a moment too long, curling up towards his shoulders.

“There is not a mark anywhere.” Thor told him his voice strangely hollow and far away. “Not a single blemish or fault to be found.” Loki turned and brushed his hand away shirking his tunic back over himself and shrugging.

“If there had been I could have just vanished it. That is the beauty of false flesh it is so easy to manipulate.” He smirked evilly. “Now if the mark was on my true skin…then there might have been a problem. Though of course, Jotun skin is hard to mark.” He sought to twist his true heritage into Thor’s gut like a knife but all he met was a fools grin. He faltered for a moment, unused to these strange advances when fate granted him a repressive. He smelt it a second before it hit, dark, rich and familiar. He turned just in time to see the steam bleed red, a moment later the first grim sign of a massacre floated in bits and pieces down the water. Thor moved to follow it back to its source but Loki held him tight by his arm. “Let the beast feed.” He commanded his voice low and dark, finally something he recognised in himself. “Let it grow fat and tired in its gluttony, and then we shall slay it.”

“But it kills, it slaughters.” Thor looked at him shocked. Loki’s eyes drifted over some remains as they bobbed animatedly down past him, scorched beyond recognition, it could have been a cow, a horse, or a man, it was impossible to name. 

“And if we go now, we join them.” Loki told him in that same dark tone.

“I thought you needed not a coward?” Thor pulled away from him a little but did not move to find the beast.

“At that moment indeed I did not. Now cowardice keeps us alive so we might kill this creature.” He smiled showing his teeth. “Do not worry, Odinson, I shall keep this out of the story when I tell it.”

“How long do we wait?” Thor asked his eyes stuck on the thickening water.

“Not long.” Loki looked away from the blood and sizzling bodies and cast his eyes upward to where great billows of smoke started to curl upwards towards the heavens. All thoughts of Thor and his insanity vanished and there was only that coil of joy and the desire for all that blood to be there from his doing.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
The wait had been hard, it made Loki’s skin itch, but the denial of his baser instinct always led to greater rewards when he let them run free. Most especially as there was fire. There had been a time when fire would have made his heart shudder but not now. Fire was not the cruel wave of destruction it had been, fire was heat, part of him wondered what the pain would be like in this flesh to have it melt away at him until it was something as dangerous as what he had once known. But this desire was fleeting and easily ignored, like the somewhat exhilarating urge to jump when one walks to the top of a mountain and looks down. Thor too had jittered and paced while they waited but for different reasons, he still held hope that some might be alive to save. Loki could have spared him that delusion but his cruelty was focused on bigger things than knocking some reality into the Odinson. 

Despite how much he had itched for the fight, when he first laid eyes on it he could not help the swallow contract his throat. Nidnoggr was vast, more a plane of land than a beast to the eye. Its skin was black apart from where the earth had crept up upon it and mottled it green with moss between the edges of its scales. Its head was bowed, nestled into its belly as it curled around, its eyes closed, from the lid Loki could tell one eyeball alone was as large as he was. It was not overly endowed with weaponry, it’s claws were dull things meant to heave its body over the ground and not slash, it’s horns were barely more than lumps of hide covered protrusions lifting up and away from its brow, and despite being called a dragon there were no wings. To most this would have been something to calm, but Loki knew the secrets of such beasts. It had no weapons because it needed them not. It had all it needed to kill somewhere, it just wasn’t in sight. Loki watched so silent his breath seemed not to pass out of his lips, but the creature flinched. For one moment Loki thought some twig had broken underfoot. The Odinson was the other side of the clearing but he trusted him not to make a noise, for all his bluster the Odinson had been trained to hunt. But they could not hide forever, Loki moved forward barely three steps out into the clearing. The creature rumbled deep in its throat and then moved lazily, its head lifting and coming close to Loki, the smell of it hit like a wave, putrefying flesh, burnt cloth and hair, and the unmistakable sickly sulphur of a dragon. Loki couldn’t hold back the grimace as it washed over him, but when steely ember coloured eyes met his he managed a grin.

“Greetings.” He muttered smiling as the creature contemplated him a moment, and then the lightning hit.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
There was little left of the forest nearby, sticks and kindling and twisted black things that looked like trees still but crumbled to ash with a brush of fingers. The dark wreckage had been perfect for Loki but Thor would have been too easy a target. Loki had bid him go around the other side of the beast where the trees still held their greenery, it was from there that Thor had watched, his heart sinking, as Loki had slid out of the forest and stood before the creature. Thor was far enough away that he heard nothing but he saw the slightly move of Loki’s lips and the pull of his smile. In his mind he saw the floating remains of what had been a village and he could not allow Loki to befall such a fate, he would not allow it. Mjolnir hummed with agreement in his grasp and he raised her to the sky. Lightening sizzled in the air and rose to his command crashing down on the beast and making it give an eerie squeal of pain before turning on Thor. The Asgardian prince was ready though, he swung his mighty hammer by its handle and propelled himself towards the beast catching it in the centre of its head. It jolted with the pain of it before howling at him, its breath enough alone to make him pull back and then it retaliated.

Thor saw it a moment before it struck, saw the fire surging up from that gaping mouth and flickering between sharp blaze stained teeth. As it hit he spun Mjolnir in his grasp creating a shield to stand behind as the fire poured out over him. The metal of his armour warmed under it and even Mjolnir echoed its heat, but both were crafted with enough skill not to burn their touch over him. And once the beast was out of breath he struck again, but Nidnoggr was ready and a flick of its tail covered the attack, it was only then that Thor saw Loki. He gripped down of one of the dull spines of the creatures back as it moved before skipping along easy up its back, he moved a few paces before digging in one of his daggers and waving his hand over it, he continued up the creature until he stood, his long legs balanced perfectly on the living terrain, and jammed in one last knife at the base of its neck. The creature didn’t seem to even notice. Loki disappeared with a flash and reappeared by Thor’s slide, stepping with him as they avoided a slash of its long tail.

“Lightening, now.” Loki commanded and Thor lifted his hammer once more and called forth his powers. It struck the beast and then seemed to spread out all over it. Thor watched as each of Loki’s knives seemed to take up the current and amplify it down the creatures body until it jerked with pain. Thor held his breath wondering if it might be enough to fell the thing, but after a cry loud enough to shake the ground from under his feet it tossed its head and turned to them. Next to him Loki sighed. “We move to the next plan then.” He muttered not seeming at all phased by the beast’s survival.

“What do you need of me?” Thor asked tucking Loki behind him and spinning his hammer as a shield again as the fire once more struck at them. Loki clutched his forearm tightly as they waited out the attack.

“A hole, I need a hole.” He commanded and then he was gone. Thor stared the thing down, its entire hide was covered in thick scales, even the might of Mjolnir would not break the things skin. The thing reared again and Thor met its gaze, it was there that he found Loki’s hole. He spun Mjolnir in his hand and launched himself, calling the lightening to strengthen his assault and hit his mark. The eyeball broke under his force, bursting and coating him black with its spillage. The creature raged its head to the sky and screamed turning on Thor. After that it became a battle of survival, the creature was in pain and much angered, it’s only outlet for all that rage was Thor. It struck again and again with its tail, its snapping jaws, and the heat of its fire constantly licking against his defences. He was panting and out of breath when he saw Loki climbing up the scales of its neck, the Jotun so light on his feet that the dragon did not feel the steps even on its skin. It couldn’t see as Loki moved up its face and stood before its eye a knife in his hand. One slash ripped apart the eyelid and then Thor couldn’t help but still as he watched Loki take a deep breath in and throw himself into the creature. Nidnoggr screeched again and flung its head down on the ground, pounding its skull against the scorched earth to rid itself of whatever wriggled inside its skull. It moved half crazed thrashing from side to side until slowly it opened its other eye and dark red seeped from its corner and the thing slumped forward. There was a moment when Thor could not feel his body, his thoughts on Loki and Loki alone, his eyes searching for sign of him. Three dizzying heartbeats thumped in the silence of the once forest. Three breaths taken alone and then there was a sound. A splutter and movement behind the ruined eyelid and then there he was. Loki covered from the tips of his black hair all the way to his boots with the innards of the thing. He spat out a red spray and pulled his face in disgust.

“We shall leave this part from the tale as well, I think.” He muttered to Thor. The Asgardian prince rushed to him and embraced him, uncaring of the rank liquids that squelched foully as he pressed them tight together. Loki calmed him with a feeble pat on his shoulder. “I live, Thor, all is well.” He muttered soothingly and then stared back. Thor followed his gaze to the creatures hide where his eyes still green from his magic fixed on something.

“The beast is dead, what vexes you?” Thor asked carding his hand through the ruins of Loki’s hair. Loki scowled for a moment at the creature.

“Look at its hide, do you see where that moss and algae brush its skins to green?” Thor nodded. “In Vanaheim they are lighter, almost yellowish due to the pale pallor of the light. It is more likely the beast rubbed those colours on itself in Alfheim where the thing was always rumoured to feed, now why would it leave such a rich land for Vanaheim? There is something in this that we miss.” He mused to himself. “Some dark trickery that is not of my making.”

“What do we do now?” Thor asked. In all honesty he did not care if there was something to this he did not see, Loki lived when he had thought him perished. That was everything to him.

“What can we do?” Loki asked, anger glittering over his eyes as the green faded to blue. “We take our sign of proof and we head towards the hospitality of the one who sent us the letter. We find out if some force is set against us, and if it is, we kill them.” He turned to Thor and smiled almost sweetly, a hard thing for anyone to do whilst covered in the inside of a dragon’s skull but Loki somehow managed it. “Though first perhaps we should bathe?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's weird I didn't hate writing this or anything but I know what's going to happen in the next chapter and i really want to write that so i know this wasn't my best, sorry. But next chapter, which hopefully i will finish by tomorrow, will have a lady flirting with Loki and Thor getting very jealous and a plot against the boys.


	9. In the arms of another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tells a story and Thor gets jealous

Part 9 In the arms of another

“Let me look on you.” Loki demanded, his brow creased with concentration. He turned Thor’s face this way and that looking on it critically and then slowly circled him. Thor tried to hold back a smile, the last time his amusement had gone down badly, but after five inspections Thor was starting to wonder if Loki just liked using the opportunity to look on him.

“Can we not just enter the castle now?” He implored casting his most pleading look at the Jotun. Loki just scowled at him.

“Just enter!” He snarled at him. “You think to ‘just enter’; do you think we have stood out here for three or more hours for no goodly reason?” Loki seemed offended. “We shall go when the sun dips low, we shall enter not through the main door but the side here, the low light shall shine from behind you casting each of your already golden features into full glory. Not a word will you speak but cast down the claim of your kill before you for all to see.” Loki’s eyes lit with glee as he described it. “The Vanir are known for their love of wealth, all hearts will stop as one when a god of living gold takes entrance in their hall.” Loki had stopped to try and order Thor’s hair, his slender fingers sifting through, and rubbing occasionally at his scalp in a way that made his skin feel tight with tension. Loki scowled again but this was not a look of anger but only mild displeasure. “Perhaps a braid…” he mused to himself tugging gently on Thor’s hair to drag it to its longest length. “…we do not wish you to seem to sport a stack of ill ordered hay on your crown.” He smirked and then deft fingers started to move flawlessly near Thor’s face twisting and weaving until a few neat braids peeked just at the corners of Thor’s vision. 

“Is this all really necessary?” Thor asked trying to keep his mind off Loki’s breath, soft and rhythmic against his neck, his fingers clenched tight so as not to draw the man closer to him. Loki stared at him a moment, his eyes serious and such an enchanting blue.

“Everything has purpose.” He claimed in an occupied and distant voice. 

“Will it not serve us well enough that we slew the mighty beast?” Thor asked, flicking his head to the side where one of Nidnoggr’s claws rested impotent by a tree, nearly matching it in size. “Does that not make us hero enough?” Loki sighed and stepped back away from him taking as a seat a fallen tree.

“You are trying to champion the merits of truth again, Odinson.” He said wearily. “Listen well, there is no hero that is not, in someone’s tale, the darkest of villains. Never was there a champion forged that was not the ire of some sole. If we told but simple truth there would be men who would gleam some dark hate from your acts. Why, even the sun has its enemies. Does not the simple man curse even the ever beloved light when it glares too strong again his vision? So we do not give them you, we do not give them truth, and so they might not look upon you as a man of blood and fault. They may look upon you only as I write you, and all who hear my tales of you cannot help but glow from your valour, cannot help but smile at the merest thought of you. There are no true heroes to all men, Odinson, but I make a false one out of you.” Loki grinned dark and wicked and predatory. “I make you such a man that no one will question your greatness, even after the ragnorok your songs will chant through the fires that consume us.” He smirked at Thor’s face which he realised must have been a sight to behold, gaped open in sickening awe. “So no, even the mighty Odinson slayer of Nidnoggr is not hero enough, no one is. And it would serve you well not to question my methods.” He ended in a slight warning. 

Thor’s breath stuck in his throat, his whole life he had been told that noble men did noble deeds and that was what made them heroes. Once Loki had joined with Volstagg to try and teach him that farmers were heroes too, that it was their labour that fed all, and just because there were no tales of them to sing at feasting, made them no less in valour or worthy of praise. And did not the Jotun’s have great heroes that were struck down by mighty Asgardian warriors, as if they were the most vicious of dark creatures, during the war. From the lips of any other these revelations might cause a sickening chill in his stomach but from Loki it was as if some great secret of life was being whispered into his ears. As if light was being cast over the shadows and what he had thought was naught but an empty corner was filled to the brim with sights to behold. 

“So, shall I pass?” he asked Loki holding out his arms for inspection, joining him in his twisted method instead of railing against it. Loki grinned at him, clearly pleased at his acceptance, and Thor felt a burst of pride at pleasing him. Loki glanced him over from head to toe, slowly snaking his gaze all over, then he thoughtfully looked to nowhere, his thoughts stealing his sight until he blinked and suddenly rushed to gather something from his pack. In a rush of inspiration he tipped every treasure he had with him out to the ground and picked through them critically until only the favoured were left, he then thrust them at Thor, fitting the rings to his every digit, the torc around his throat, and several bangles clumsily around his vambraces. 

“There!” He smiled contently at Thor, who wiggled his fingers at the unaccustomed weight. “Now, this is of importance, if you are offered gold as a reward, take it without thanks, dismiss silver and bronze. If you are gifted with some gems make some halting remark until I am with you to gauge their worth. You earn no respect in Vanaheim from taking cheap rewards.” Loki moved back to his pack and found some little vial; he dipped his fingers in it and coated the hollow of Thor’s throat with it, making him swallow once more. He looked questioningly at the bottle and Loki shrugged before putting it back. “It is made from the blossom of Iddun’s apple trees.” He explained. “A unimpressive scent to most, but the Vanir are impressed by the rarity of a thing and not its actual merits.” Thor could just barely smell it, sweet and a little smoky, nothing like the sharp scent of apple skins woven into Loki’s flesh.

“What think you?” Thor asked moving a step forward to keep Loki near. “What scent pleases Loki?” He dipped his head a little to catch Loki’s eyes and the trickster lifted his brow and grinned.

“Sickly scents are a maidens concern.” He shrugged. “I have spent too long in violence that sweat and blood are not the curdling scents they should be, I find there is no matter with a warrior smelling of fresh wounds.” He gave a little laugh and easily moved away. “As long as they are not mine.” He ended with a flash of clever eyes and Thor mentally berated himself. He had tried to move Loki with the scents that the young man favoured; it now seemed so clear a false hope, for he had never sought to win a maid with the scent of rose or lily. 

“I am glad that a warriors perfume does not displease you.” Thor told him grinning and the young man turned one eyebrow arched.

“Nay, the clawing scents you have chosen to drench yourself in of late, now they are another matter.” Loki gave a high peel of laughter as Thor sheepishly looked to his feet, he was not used to having a suit rejected so. “Come now, there is all the time for sulking but the sun slides from the sky and it shall make quite a show bursting in, its dying splendour casting mellow colours behind your frame.” Loki grinned at him and gestured with one jerk of his head for Thor to pick up the claw and follow him.  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
It could not have gone better. Thor had the beast’s claw draped over his shoulders, the dull curve of the claw bracing itself around his muscles. A heavy boot had thrown wide the door as, without announcement, he strode forth, taking ownership of all he cast his eye upon. Loki had not hidden his smile of pride, for the Odinson learnt well and gave up the naivety of youth under his guidance. The sun had shone just so and illuminated all around him, casting him as something ethereal and sky born as the lightening he summoned. Behind him Loki kept himself small and meek, letting Thor’s shadow steal half the light from his shape. Most creatures would feel an abuse of their pride to cast themselves so small a role but Loki felt nothing but joy as his own dark imaginings were played out before him. This was his story, regardless of the role he took. The Vanir fawned over Thor the instant he stepped in, Loki wanted to laugh for they could have hunted nothing but rabbits and these simpering souls would have fallen over their gold encrusted shoes to gush for the Odinson. No matter the late hour fires were called for and a great meal erected around them that Thor of course agreed to. Maids pressed themselves against the Odinson’s shape, tracing the contours of his flesh with soft hands used only for embroidery and not the vicious tools for killing Loki had trained his own digits become. He kept his face amused as they brushed themselves against Thor trying to press as much flesh as they could upon him, and not look away quickly as every instinct in him told him to. He could not, however, hold make the little victorious smile as Thor excused himself from their harlots grip to step next to Loki looking at him for approval. Loki gifted the Odinson with one quick brush of his fingers over his hand as a sign of a job well done, and it was all that was needed to make him beam. After the first few courses the cheer came up for the tale of Thor’s victory to be told. The claw sat in pride of place under one of the arches, like some forgotten but honoured ruler long past from this plain. 

“Please.” Loki leant across to touch his hand to Thor’s arm. “Please, let me tell your tale? Too often does humility make you recall a murmur when there was almighty yell, and deserved are those you aid with true words of your victory.” Loki asked his eyes begging. It was far too easy to play this role. Thor seemed to think it over.

“Indeed, for no voice is sweeter than yours, dear Loki.” Thor told him and Loki had to hold himself back from striking him hard on the shoulder in reprimand, and instead smiled and cleared his throat getting to his feet and waiting until all in the hall stared at him. The Vanir were much like the Asgardians, but they seemed almost muted compared to their relatives, their shapes less heroic, their skills fine enough but lacking when put besides Asgards triumphs, even their gold, which they craved like air, seemed a dirtier yellow. But their minds were similar enough and this was no more a challenge then calling out the tale in the chambers that served him as home of late.

“Bend you low listen as I recount, forgive the rough tremble of my voice, but it is honour and respect that makes of me a bard tonight and not a calling of skill. Some nights ago the royal prince did receive a letter written in most desperate ink, begging for his help,wrote from the worthy master of this very castle. Those who know the Odinson will tell that the tiniest whisper for help rings loud in his ears until answered, such is his heart. But this letter told not of men with blade, or even lumbering trolls, or vicious giants, what was spoken on that parchment was of a beast so foul its name alone shudders the air itself as it is spake. The beast was named Nidnoggr. The one who lashes its teeth on the great tree, and makes even its ever standing roots heave and shift. 

Knowing full the dangers, still or hero did not pause, did not stop to think that he might leave to face his death with this foe. Cowards did pull at his cape, beseeching on him to stay, that Vanaheim is no concern of the Asgardian prince. These men did the Odinson strike down and he called to them in a voice steady as ice. 

“All things are my concern,” Spoke he. “For never is a sole slaughtered that does not heat my blood for revenge. It is a cowards way to care little for the deaths of many, so let cowards stay and good men venture forth.” The Odinson’s words rang into my soul and even though fear still clutched at me I did beg on my knees that he might take me as page, and I might help in any way I can. For three days we sifted through the woods of Vanaheim, every day a burden on our heroes heart that every step that found us not the beast meant it walked in violence on other land. On the third day we had stopped to rest by a bank, into the pure and crystal water did I dip my hands but pulled them out murder stained. The Odinson did wrench me from the bank and remind me of our goal when terror rattled through me. Against the steam we walked in full haste to meet the beast.

As we drew near the forests blackened and were naught but the image of trees, their shape taken by so much as a breath against them, burnt away to nothing. The ground was ash under our feet, as if it had laid dead for a century, but as we got closer we saw the truth of the matter. Inside a circle of death sat the beast, its breath a poison to the land. The stench alone brought one to their knees and made each breath a fight. It was there that Thor bade me stay and through the wreckage of a once glorious summer forest I watched. 

Taking no care to conceal himself the Odinson stepped forward, waking the beast with each clear footfall. It was as large as land itself, stretching forth for fathoms before him, every inch black shadowy scales and kill hardened frame. It lifted its head and stared at the hero, hollow thoughtless eyes taking in his splendour and thinking of nothing but another meal. Then it reared back and brought forth from its stomach a surge of fire. The air heated and crackled, simmered and shone with the haze of it, skin dried in its wake and dizzied the mind as gushes of red demon fire spat and spewed from its jaws. But the Odinson held no fear, he cast the mighty Mjolnir before him, made from a dying star, wielded by only the worthiest of men, a weight unmovable to all others did he cast before him and split the flames with its power.  
The creature screamed in fury as its foe’s death was denied to it and struck out in all manner of ways, its head a living mace smashing against the might of our hero. Its tail a barbed whip cracking in the air as it whooshed back and forth and the great terrible heat of that fire always seeking for a moment to catch the Odinson off guard. Long did the Odinson fight this creature, until sweat shone off every limb, until fatigue wormed itself way into every muscle making them twitch and protest. But he would not yield. Calling forth the help of nature to banish this most horrible of creatures Thor did lift up his hammer, exposing himself from breast to feet without care for his survival, and called the lightening to his aid. 

The sky took on life, it surged and flickered as it answered back the prince, moving as a blade in his fingers and stinging forth and striking the beast. The dragon flinched in pain as electricity lit up every nerve with agony, it was then that the Odinson heaved back his hammer and struck true, slamming with all the might he had against the temple of the beast. The sheer power bursting in its head exploding out one evil pupil from its very skull, and then it shuddered down to die leaving only the Odinson alone in that once beautiful forest, the only sound his breath in the air and the lingering crackle of lightening.” Loki ended to the chillingly quiet room. He had been forced to fit the story to the remains that some might find later or he would not have included the rather unseemly detail of the creatures eye. Still, by the resounding cheers and applause, the Vanir seemed not to flinch too much from the grisly details. His story told Loki was more than happy to sit back and allow Thor to bask in the affections and praise of the Vanir. 

“You are the most noble of heroes.” The master of the castle praised, rather irritatingly they had passed a few greater settlements on their way to the castle but Loki knew the story would never resound as greatly as in the hall it was first called for. He mused that he might call on Thor to pass through the castles on their way back to the Bifrost. “In truth I did not hold much hope that you would answer my letter.” The lord commented his eyes lit up with childlike admiration.

“Never could I pass up the opportunity to aid.” Thor swore solemnly.

“And you, sir, you name yourself not a bard, but every lilt of your voice sounds perfect to my ear.” A voice cooed from Loki’s side and he turned to see a young woman smiling sweetly at him.

“If only my words could truly paint the glory of the Odinson’s victory.” He replied with a small smile, polite if a little distant.

“Oh you speak too humbly. Tell me, what is your name, sir?” The lady asked leaning in closer, Loki searched her minutely for anything that might be of note. Usually he did not bother, one woman was much the same as any other, but there was something about this one that gave him unsettling pause. She looked ordinary enough, her hair a pale gold, cut to her shoulders with a metal plate to hold back the strands from her eyes, her eyes that were a soft green like the weak Vanaheim grass, and her shapely form was tucked into a dress of purest white accented only by gaudy drippings of Vanaheim gold. 

“I am Loki of Asgard.” Loki named himself with a lie and a bow of his head, and forced on his most charming of smiles. “And what name was gifted to you?”

“I am Freyja of Vanaheim.” She threaded her hand in his and he bent to kiss it softly. “Now I had heard tale that Thor Odinson kept the company of a great sorcerer, perhaps you are he?” She asked hopefully. Loki pulled back and scoffed.

“Nay!” He pulled his most offended face. “Now, my sweet lady, I know I have not the bulk of my dear cousin Thor, but to accuse me of woman’s art, I fear my pride would not bare it.”

“Oh? I forget that in Asgard magic was for women alone to wield. I apologise, sincerely.” She lied to Loki and he bristled at the idea of one trying to lie to him. He calmed his temper. “It was merely a tale I was told by a blind man.” She smirked at him and Loki tried his best not to glare. The tables were becoming emptier as couples rose to dance with each other, he wondered if it might become so sparse as to hide him slip a drop of poison in her cup.

“A blind man?” Next to him Thor turned to face them his face pulled up in confusion. “I cannot recall coming to aid of one who is sightless.”

“Your tales grow beyond the teller.” Loki shrugged next to him gifting him with a wicked grin, he did so love knowing more than others. With a gracious smile he turned back to this Freyja. “I fear someone has told you false. While I have not his skill it is a weapon in wield not tricks and spells.” Loki laughed at the idea lightly. 

“I guess you never can trust tales nowadays.” She simpered back. “To apologise for my most horrific of offenses please grant me a dance?” She got to her feet in one fluid motion and offered Loki her hand. Next to him Thor tensed and his hand gripped Loki’s shoulder staying him.

“Perhaps another time.” Thor growled menacingly. 

“Do not be so foolish, cousin. One dance will harm none.” Loki brushed his hand off and took the dangerous woman’s hand in his own. “You shall have to walk me through the steps I fear.” He warned lightly.

“Oh do not worry, Loki.” She whispered to his skin. “I will teach you.”  
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Thor should have known that Loki would have been able to dance. Those clever feet that could tread over the most sodden of ground and leave not a trace of his path, of course they could skim over the stone floor as if kissing against it. Thor sat and tried his hardest not to glare as Loki clasped the women to his frame. Freyja she had named herself, she had dressed in white but Thor doubted she was pure as her outfit claimed. Deep rage flicked through him as he watched Loki smile broadly and twirl her body, his feet sliding between her own, one slender thigh pressing between her legs for no longer than a second but a second too long. Since Thor had known him Loki seemed to have no interest in either sex, his friendship and affections for Thor had led him to hope that these affections might transform to something else.

But now seeing how his face lit with pleasure as he moved with the pretty maiden over the floor Thor realised he may have been wrong. His heart ached at the sight of the women in his arms looking so natural and fitting as they moved. Loki had allowed his brief moments of affection but he had never gifted them back, his body had always been still whenever Thor had pressed their lips together. Petty rage clutched at him and he could no longer hold back the intense glare that he directed at the moving couple. Thor was forced to sit doing nothing for five whole songs as the two of them moved, whispering and laughing with each other as they did so. By the end they were the only ones on the dance floor all others giving in to watching them move skilfully to the music. 

At the start of the sixth song Thor could take no more and he strode over to Loki and gripped him tightly by the wrist. Loki turned to him huge innocent blue eyes on him full of wonder. 

“Excuse me; may I have a moment of your time, Loki?” He asked throwing a challenging look to Freyja who smiled amicably.

“Of course, you do not mind, do you?” Loki asked Freyja unhooking himself from her grip.

“Of course not, Loki. Until tomorrow then?” She asked and he nodded. Thor waited until they had left the main hall and were in private to whisper into Loki’s ears.

“Tomorrow? You are meeting her tomorrow? For what goodly reason?” He grumbled out. Loki blinked at him amused.

“Indeed, we have been offered a nights rest here, it would be rude to reject it.” Loki told him a puzzled look on his handsome face. 

“And what do you plan to do with this Freyja tomorrow?” Thor realised that he was snarling.

“We had made no solid plans.” Loki muttered his eyes glancing at the rock hard grip Thor had on his wrist. “Does it vex you?” He asked innocently.

“Why would it not vex me, Loki? I have been trying to win your heart and this…this wanton creature comes along and flutters her eyelashes at you and you go to her.” Thor told him. The Jotun stared at him for a moment and then his face faltered into a smile, a smile which broke into a laugh until he was doubled over with amusement. “I do not see what is so humorous.” Thor complained, he was becoming rather irritated at the idea that any time he confessed his true and deepest feelings he was always met with laughter. 

“You think I find her attractive?” Loki asked as if it were the most unlikely thing in all the realms. Thor nodded and Loki surrender to laughter again. “Let me guess, you are also fool enough to think that she finds my form pleasing?”

“Well…yes.” Thor frowned at him and Loki laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“Thor, she is not as she seems. She makes a show, a rather base and simple one at that, one of affection and seduction. When in truth she waits to find an unguarded back to sink her blade into. I am beginning to think this whole venture has much to do with her and little to do with the peace of Vanaheim.” Loki told him a sparkling grin at the idea of his immediate assassination lighting up his face. 

“This pleases you?” Thor asked confused as Loki turned to head back into the hall.

“Why would it not? I do not intend to let her succeed and it shall be such sport to find the why of my marking.” Loki told him gleefully and pulled a little away from Thor.

“Wait!” Thor gripped him hard on the arm but Loki just stared up at him with wide eyes. “Is this what you think of my own attempts at wooing you? That it is just some plan to sink a dagger in your back?” 

“Oh no, Odinson.” Loki grinned up at him showing his white canines and letting his blue eyes drift to green briefly. “I am not child enough to think it is a dagger you wish to sink into me.” Loki laughed and spun out of his grip, dancing away back to the ending feast and leaving Thor stood alone, his face hot. Outwardly all his affections towards Loki had been innocent chaste touches, a brush of their lips, a linking of arms, but that did not mean that all of his thoughts towards the young man had been as pure as morning snow. In fact Thor had spent many hours wondering on his more illicit desires over Loki, but always in the safety of his bedroom under cover of darkness. The fact that Loki knew some of his thoughts sent a wave of dark heat through him as he entered the fray smiling weakly. Loki caught his eye and winked at him broadly, his face lit with a grin. Thor had to clench his hands tight, if Loki was to be the death of him, he might even welcome it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it had been a little while since i had Loki do a monologue about the joys of lying so i couldn't help myself! Thank you everyone for the comments and kudos! Also this would have been posted a few days ago but i thought i was having problems with the site, turns out my cookies were disabled, oops. So sorry for the wait. Also big fight next chapter, I swear this was going to be a romance story but all that seems to happen is violence! I blame Loki.


	10. Bleeding another's wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki finds out why someone wants to kill him

Part 10 Bleeding another’s wounds

Thor didn’t want to leave Loki, not with someone possibly seeking to do him ill. But Loki was stubborn and laughed off his concerns.

“You think that this is the first time someone has wanted my life?” he asked with a smile in his eyes. 

“Nay, I suppose it is not.” Thor admitted and Loki gifted him with a pleased smile. “But you will take care, will you not?” Thor took Loki’s shoulders in his hands, the Jotun turned his head briefly to look at one of them resting, clasped on his shoulder, before smirking at Thor.

“Of course, there is little in all the realms more dear to me than my own existence, Odinson.” Loki told him.

“Still, I do not like that they have separated us. It speaks of dark intent.” Thor muttered, they were standing by the thick hardy and protective wood of Thor’s chambers for the night, he knew that Loki’s own door would probably not even have a bolt.

“Actually that is the one thing that rings true here. Have you seen how the other Vanir treat me?” Thor frowned at Loki’s question, no one treated him ill. The Vanir hadn’t been as pleasant towards him as the elves had, all bar this one suspicious character of course, but they had not been cruel or rude to Loki. Loki sighed at his obvious confusion and settled his back against a nearby wall to explain. “The Vanir are obsessed with riches and you, Odinson, hold more than they could dream, and so they lavish you with their splendour to please you. They know me to be of lesser stock and so care less. I am given poorer quarters because I am of less importance. There is no more malice behind it than giving fine cuts of meat to lords and scraps to the dogs.”

“Then they know nothing, you are my equal, Loki, I have sworn it in the halls of Asgard and I will swear it here.” Thor told him stepping forth and unintentionally trapping Loki against the wall. Loki however just smiled his same casual grin as if nothing was happening.

“I pray you do not, Odinson, your brilliance is the cloak I cover myself with. I will not have you throw it off in some fool’s errand.” Loki told him. “Especially with your performance today.”

“Did I…did I do well today? Did I please you?” Thor asked moving even closer, self-doubt was new to him and he wore it with ill-ease, like his stomach was about to pull itself from his gut. Loki laid one hand on Thor’s chest, a light weight that seemed to burn through the cloth of his tunic and he wished that slender weight would shift, move over him and brand its trail into him, but it remained static in place.

“Indeed you did.” Thor smiled at him in joy and Loki clucked his tongue back in mock chastisement. “Now, Odinson, you should not take joy in pursuing the dark plots of wicked creatures.”

“You are no wicked creature, Loki, and it is not mine to decide where I take joy.” Thor told him his voice as deep and sure as he could make it with that devilish hand still on his chest. His thoughts were rolling like trapped currents and it seemed his every word, his every move, were not his to choose. Even with Loki grinning at him with a smile that was every bit a warning as smoke on the horizon and the distant thrumming beat of war drums. Unheeding the dangers Thor tipped his head closer. Anyone might see and at the best think he dallied with his page in a most unsavoury fashion, but he did not care, he had Loki before him and anything else could vanish into nothing. “You have such pretty eyes.” He whispered low enough for only Loki to catch even though there was no other soul. Loki laughed mockingly, harsh and vulgar in the intimacy of the moment.

“Which ones?” He asked with a huff of amused breath. “The blue, the green or the red?” 

“All.” Thor told him with a nod of his head.

“You cannot dub all equal in merit, the same way you cannot measure silver against gold. Or perhaps you like everything and so nothing is particular. Is that is? Does the mighty Thor see nothing but a world of gold making every surface gleam with universal worth? It must be a sorrowfully splendour that those of actual beautiful would fade into the encompassing glory of your sight.” Loki laughed at him but Thor was not one to be dissuaded.

“Nay, I can see and name true splendour when it comes before me. Perhaps it is the perfection of their setting that makes them all of equal beauty to me.” He dared to trace one hand over Loki’s features, cupping his sharp cheek bones in his hand, marvelling at how Loki’s skin was so soft and smooth. It seemed more the skin of a pretty caged thing kept away from that which might lay its mark upon it, and not the wild thing that Loki was, constantly lifting his face to bitter winds and sweltering heats. Loki pulled Thor’s hand from his face and slide out from his place trapped against the wall but there was no anger in his countenance, only confusion.

“I bid you goodnight, Odinson, not all of us have time for foolish talk, some of us have a knife pointed ready at our backs. I shall see on the morrow.” Loki told him hastily and left.

~~~L/T~~~

Loki stared up at his ceiling wondering how he was going to cure the Odinson of his ridiculous affections. The little incident by the lake had shown Loki that clearly he could not control the situation how he had thought. Just when he thought he knew the right path to take the fool did something to sweep out his expectations right from under him. What he could not grasp was how Thor was so gentle with him. Loki had seen the Odinson many times in battle, he was a vicious thing, a creature of heaving hammer swings and bright chaotic bursts of lightening. It was a beautiful thing to watch, to stand with, constantly having to check where he was and what he was doing to avoid being caught in the shockwaves that Thor’s warring sent out in all directions. But when he spoke with Loki he was so gentle, cloyingly so, it made Loki feel discomfort right down to his marrow. In Jottenheim there were no gentle touches, no affectionate clasps. Loki had often used this against his fellows to vex them, it earned him a few undignified titles but Loki cared little for that if his plans succeeded. But with Thor there was always something behind his touch, something hidden and held back tightly, in truth, it was that which scared Loki. A light knock stole him happily from his grim and confusing thoughts and Loki threw himself from his bed to open it. He was not surprised to see his much more wily wooer.

“Freyja?” he whispered her name in faked shock. She was stood at his doorway in her nightwear, a shimmering frock of white, thin and billowing, where the odd piece fell against her skin rich curves of pink her flesh shone through as clearly as if water held it to her frame. It did not take one of Loki’s wits to work out what she pretended to be at his door for. “It is far into the night for you to seek my door, my goodly lady, does some trouble stand against you? If it does know you have my word and honour to help you.” 

“The only trouble that stands against me is my weak womanly heart.” She simpered and Loki had to refrain from pulling a face, it was all rather pathetic, though he was sure a lesser man might be too swept up in the idea of the paradise that lay between a woman’s legs to care for the cheap words she gave invite with. “Even as I lay abed you were all my mind could hold. I could not rest for thoughts of you.” She claimed as if this was some hard won confession. 

“Then I am here ever ready for you, my lady, for what man could refuse one as beautiful as yourself. Do you wish to come inside?” Loki offered his doorway to her, it was not ideal as any sounds they made would be heard nearly instantly, they were probably already taking great risk with nothing but their conversation, but Loki was rather gifted at covering the sounds of death should he be called upon to do away with the lady. 

“Nay, I fear this wall stand too thin against my desires, perhaps you would come with me, there is a little spot not far into the grounds, it is known as a place where lovers sit and weep for their unrequited, perhaps together might bless it with happier sounds.” She fluttered her lashes at Loki and he put on his most pleased fake smile, and took her arm.

“Lady, I am a man of honour, I do not wish to take from you something not given freely.” Loki told her clasping her hands sincerely as Thor had done many times, it was easy to make the show of a good man with such a handy template. 

“I give it freely, sir.” She assured him and they strode off to the grounds. “Freely and eternally to you.”

~~~L/T~~~

Loki noted that Frigga would be disappointed should she see the grounds. They were well ordered and pleasant enough but rather dull, uniform sections of neat flowers and lined trees. The gardens in Asgard were wild in places, each section twisting and blending into each other as ordered as wilderness itself, the pleasant benches so well placed it seemed as if they were marble flowers blossoming in the sunlight. But Loki was not in the grounds to enjoy the scenery, he was there with a woman who very much wanted to take his life. They had walked far enough away from the castle that no one would hear them, Loki shifted from her side to admire some foliage, flowing between the trees for the briefest of moments. Freyja smiled as she got near, moving as if drawing forth for a kiss before reaching for her thigh and pulling out a dagger thrusting it down into Loki’s chest. Loki however disappeared into nothing.

“Is that it?” Loki called from behind her making her spin around in confusion. “Are we done now? I must say you disappoint me, Freyja, the only thing that made this of any interest to me was our little game of pretend. Now we have lost that, what is there left?” Loki held up his arms in an elaborate shrug. The woman snarled at him and launched towards him, a move easy avoided with the slightest step to the side. 

“Now, there is your death.” She told him.

“Far better than you have sworn my murder on their blades and I still stand.” Loki told her and she snarled and bared her teeth at him again. “What, did you think you the first to make such threats upon me?” he asked.

“Nay, I imagine your life is cursed more times than the sun has risen, Loki Laufeyson.” She told him and threw away the knife as if it was nothing. Loki watched her hands glow a deep purple in the hazy light wondering briefly if this might get interesting.

“That is why you seek to end my life? All for my father’s name?” Loki laughed and had to hold back a winch as rather sharp blades forged by magic ripped into his shoulder and pulled it back slightly. 

“Need I greater reason?” She asked and the next barrage of knifes Loki parried easily, he was not keen to feel them again. “Your father was a monster.”

“You will find no argument with me over that.” Loki smirked and rolled to avoid the next attack. A branch twisted and grabbed at his arm and he narrowly missed being caught. Loki’s chest started to rise quicker as she called more and more to aid to kill him. “But his villainies are not mine. What use is opening my skin to stab at the blood in my veins? Laufey is dead, he has no hands to hold you, or bring weapon against you, ghosts only strike us if we let them for their only blade is our memory.” He told her his hand clasping around that which he had sought and pushing down his grin at springing upon the discarded blade with fortunate ease.

“I have heard of you Loki liesmith.” Loki tensed at that nickname. “You will say anything to save your skin. All I hear though are the echoes of your fathers voice.” Loki had to jump into a tree as the earth rumbled and clasped at his ankles, holding up his arm as weak protection against a barrage of knives, his thin bed clothes slicing instantly and running red as they hit his skin. 

“May I ask how it was you heard of me?” Loki asked striking back with one soft booted foot to avoid getting struck again. Freyja growled at him, but Loki knew her kind, weavers of the craft were often too alike for their own good, she would be proud she had found him.

“I hear a blind man’s tale in a tavern, his whole form reeked of magic, it only took a little persuading for him to tell me how he had lost his sight. I heard him tell of a man who appeared Aesir but with blue skin under pale milky white. I knew you could be no other than Loki, the monster king’s bastard spawn. You were easy enough to entice here with your little pursuits with the Asgardian prince, especially with the promise of a dragons boast, it was quite a work bringing the beast here, many lost their lives in dragging it from its cave, I had hoped you might die from its fire, but alas you were left for me to take.” She told him a pride in her words. Loki smiled pleased at her making her frown. All at once Loki rolled forwards towards her nimbly avoiding her surprised flurry of blades and ducked around her back to press his blade at her throat. She struggled briefly, her blades slicing through the air, but Loki simply dissolved them. Consuming the energy of another’s craft in such a fashion was a difficult task and not many weavers tended to use it, preferring to strike back with their own attacks. Loki always liked to make a show of it melting the blades as they almost reached his skin as if his very aura disintegrated them, it was tiresome work and already he felt the tug at his power, begging him to stop, like aching muscles after too much use. But Loki kept his grin as firmly placed as his knife.

“Hear me, my father was a cruel man, I care not what he brought against you, that is your quarrel with him and not with me. All I have of Laufey is his blood, and little of that as it is. Make your peace with his crimes and do not think to target me or my brothers with miss-sighted hate.” He nicked the knife in just slightly at her throat, a small rivet of blood running down her throat, she whimpered under him. 

“Are you…are you going to kill me?” She asked her voice wavering.

“Nay. The dead are seldom useful; I might have need one day of a powerful ally in Vanaheim. My mercy is a rare gift, you should take it, though know it is never offered twice.” Slowly he pressed his knife against her neck again dipping into the already opened skin, tears ran down her face in fear. “Swear you will bring no harm me or mine and I release you.” He gave his ultimatum.

“Yes, yes I swear it.” She begged and Loki heard the truth of it, dropping her to the floor. His knees threatened to give out under him and if he wished to maintain his play of invincibility he would have to leave and soon. He turned and went to walk away. “Before you go…” her voice came timid and weak, her hand against her wound. “…the man in tavern, he said if I wished to harm you I should kill the Odinson, if I had what would…”

“Your death would have been written in blood over every realm.” He muttered darkly and her eyes lit up with something close to respect and she sat back.

“You truly are not your father.” She whispered to Loki’s receding back.

“Men seldom are.” Were the only words he left her with.

~~~L/T~~~

Thor was surprised by the gentle knocking on his door, but threw a fur from his bed around himself and opened it. Loki stared back at him, the thin grey tunic he slept in slashed to ribbons at one arm, red blurring skin and fabric together in one mess. 

“Loki!” He reached out with desperate arms to clutch the Jotun. Loki smiled almost lazily back at him and pushed weakly at his arms.

“I live, Odinson, worry not. I am merely tired, may I come in?” He asked polity and Thor ferried him in making him lie out on the bed. Loki made one feeble show of reaching for his boots before Thor knocked his hands away and took to unlacing them himself. He tugged away Loki’s boots leaving the pale perfect lines of his feet open to the air, worrying he might chill Thor wrapped one of the other pelts around Loki who smiled in vague thanks.

“What has happened?” Thor asked running a hand through Loki’s hair.

“I have dealt with our little lady friend.” He muttered. “My fatigue is my own fault, my pride is my hubris, and one day will be my end.” Loki told him. “I used too much energy is all.” He confessed.

“Did you kill her?” Thor asked, Loki’s blood still running in thin trickles on his arm was enough to move him to anger and Sif had taught him years ago that a womanly figure does not always exclude one from being a warrior and thus worthy of battling.

“Nay, I did far worse, I cursed her with eternal guilt, if ever we have need in Vanaheim she will fall over herself to aid us.” Loki told him and Thor wondered how he did it, how he remained so calm and removed from death itself. If anyone had moved against Thor he would have killed them before he could even think about using them to his own benefit, but Loki saw the larger picture, it made Thor glad for the little snippets of it that the Jotun shared with him. 

“Did you find the reason for her blade?” Thor asked his hand unconsciously playing over the Jotun’s hair still and down to his cheek. Loki’s eyes were closed and his head rested against Thor’s pillow, it would only take a small movement and Thor could be laid out beside him like two lovers in repose. 

“Aye, it was sharpened on hatred for my father.” Loki told him his voice nothing more than a whisper through his fatigue. Thor wanted to laugh, he had never seen Loki so relaxed.

“Why did you come here, Loki, tell me in truth?” Thor asked and Loki gave a giggle so close to sleep that it burst forth high and almost hysterical. Thor pushed down his own amusement. “Alright as close to truth as you can get.” He amended and Loki smirked against the pillow.

“I do not know, I did not plan it, it just happened. Now come, unless you plan to banish me from your room, I am tired, let us sleep.” That was clearly as much of an invitation into his own bed as Thor was going to get and he gladly moved in next to Loki, threading his arms around Loki’s torso and holding him tight until he could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of Loki’s breath against his chest, feel each bump of his spine through his tattered shirt and smell nothing but the sharp intoxicating scent of his skin. 

“Loki…” He whispered and received a half asleep hum for his efforts. “If you ever find yourself in danger know that I am always willing to aid you in any way I can.” He vowed into dark soft hair. Loki snorted in laughter once, the motion jolting him as they lay out together.

“Go to sleep, fool.” Loki commanded whatever amusement he had found in Thor’s oath lost into sleep. Thor smiled still, it didn’t matter that he didn’t know everything he had Loki here in his arms safe for another day, for now that was enough.


	11. When no means yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Loki get back from Asgard and some simple gift giving goes wrong

Part 11 When no means yes

Loki awoke with a warm constricting band of flesh curled around his stomach. It was still dark, the early morning light not yet strong enough to rip through nights dark blanket. He shuffled, trying to pull himself from that strange grip but digits clasped onto his middle dragging him backwards until his back met the broad muscular canvas of Thor’s chest. Loki smiled wryly to himself. Coming to Thor’s chambers was a mistake, he saw that now. The night before he had been woozy and tired, he hadn’t wanted to have to keep himself half awake, he wanted to rest as the dead he had avoided becoming. Thor’s arms had seemed like a good a place as any to seek sanctuary. The complications in the tangle of their limbs wasn’t clear until he awoke now. 

One of Thor’s legs slung over Loki’s hip and he grimaced at the intimacy of the act. He frowned to himself, of course Thor, who gave his affections as if they cost him nothing, would think little of taking such grievous liberties with Loki. Slowly Loki slid his hand down to Thor’s muscular thigh, pushing gently, trying to encourage the limb to slide away from him. His hand met with surprisingly soft flesh peppered with short hair. Loki frowned at the idea, before realising that the Aesir would need that soft scattered down of hair to keep their bodies safe from the merest chill. Loki had never given it much thought before and it wasn’t something he had considered when crafting his own false skin, only mimicking the hair which is seen on his head and face. His curious hand mapped the alien flesh for a few moments, stretching his palm around the curve of Thor’s leg, skimming higher where the flesh got even softer, when he froze. Thor gripped him tighter and sighed contently in his ear, his legs pressing closer, and Loki remembered that the shifting brown pelt, so coarse in comparison to the delicate skin under his touch, was all the Odinson kept between Loki’s covered form and Thor’s utterly bare frame.

He began to think it prudent to leave before more of Thor’s flesh unintentionally made contact with his own. Loki wriggled a little and tried to slip from the bed, but Thor seemed unwilling to part with him making a low childish grumble and clinging tighter. Loki sighed to himself and closed his eyes. He would have preferred to rest himself a little while longer before using his craft again but necessity rises unbidden to a man’s wants. He shifted slowly into one of his favourite borrowed forms, the lithe ill omen of the magpie. He hopped away on spritely legs as Thor fell nearly on top of him searching sleepily for the other body. A quick flurry led him to the window and he dipped outside to enter into his own room and bed. He turned back into his Aesir flesh and collapsed onto the bed, his legs giving out under him in a chaotic swirl of disbelief and fatigue. He cursed his own weakness. He had allowed Thor to see him in his weakened state, when he had been pathetic and seeking out comfort and even affection. Loki felt disgusted in himself, despite the fatigue eating at his muscles and the dull thudding ache in his head he knew that sleep would come no more to him that night. With a dramatic sigh Loki got up from his bed and spent the last lingering hours of the night washing his wounds, sipping weak nettle tea and watching the servants begin their day.   
~~~~L/T~~~~  
Loki felt an odd feeling of nerves at the idea of seeing Thor next, he had no idea what was considered appropriate conversation to have with someone that had previously held you as you slept. It was not a situation he was used to finding himself in. Luckily they were in Vanaheim and there was much to distract him. Loki spent the first few hours of the morning discussing what was a fitting tribute to the Odinson with the castles owner. Loki always enjoying these negotiations, especially if the other party thought him nothing more than a simple page. He had just opened his mouth to demand more gems under the sense that they weighed less and were easier to carry. Loki had seen some of the gems in the storage and they were of such excellent quality that he wanted as many as they could get. But his words never had a chance as the slim womanly hand of Freyja pressed down threateningly on the Lord’s shoulder.

“Give him whatever he wishes.” She demanded, her voice sweet and soft with hidden promises of danger. To Loki she passed a scroll and quill. “Write your pleasure on it and we shall provide.” Loki gazed at her for a long moment before shrugging and taking it up.

“You are aware that you are presently cutting away at my enjoyment?” He asked her scribbling away. She flinched and Loki had to hold back a smirk, it had been a long while since someone had feared him so openly. “But it’s always pleasant when demands are met.” He conceded with a fake grin designed to send a shiver of ice cold fear down the back of all who saw it. He passed the scroll to the Lord and shooed him away with the flick of his hand. Freyja took the Lord’s seat, her face slightly contrite and nervous.

“I wish to give you a token, as a sigh of my dedication to you.” She spoke and pulled from her pocket a gem, it was rich with magic, her own magic. Handing this gem to Loki would cripple her own power. Loki held back the roll of his eyes, and wondered how she had become to be foolish as to think he would have use for a pathetic mage barely able to conjure the mere semblance of fire. He made a show of a sympathetic smile and pushed the gem back towards her. 

“If you wish to prove yourself to me than go to the west where the body of the dragon lies, burn the flesh, grind the bones to powdered dust and send them as a gift to King Helblindi of Jottenheim. Any gold that had sat in the beats stomach melt and have sculpted into a grand shield embossed with a picture of the sun. This you shall send to Asgard to the Allfather as a token of your thanks for the valour of his son. My name shall never be spoken in these gifts, they are favours from Vanaheim. Do you understand?” He asked her seriously. She nodded.

“I will do as you say.” She swore. Loki reached out and stroked the back of his hand over her cheek.

“Indeed you will.” He whispered almost fondly and she scampered away.

“I thought you only fawned on her in gest?” An irritated voice came from behind him and Loki turned to survey the Odinson, his arms crossed over his chest his blue eyes following the retreating form of Freyja.

“That was not fawning.” Loki defended himself briskly moving to grant Thor room enough to join him which he did with a huff. “That was praise to an obedient pet.”

“Still, your pretence is most convincing.” Thor grumbled. “When do we leave this place?” He asked.

“Soon, the Lord has gone to fetch our reward and then we may leave back to Asgard.”

“What of the dragon’s corpse?” Thor asked.

“Taken care of.” Loki dismissed, his enigmatic smile spreading over his face. He dared with his eyes that the Odinson ask him how for he had a thousand lies in mind for the question, man of which would bend against the very workings of the realms. 

“I was saddened to wake and find you gone.” Thor admitted in a low tone and Loki’s smile flickered for a moment before he steeled his resolve, he would have been much more comforted in a little banter of lies over dragon remains.

“What nonsense do you speak?” Loki frowned as if he had no idea what Thor was talking about.

“Last night, you fell asleep in my bed, with me, and when I awoke you were gone.” Thor insisted upon him gripping his wrist in a tight grip that Loki could feel brand itself into his skin, sure to taint his flesh purple with the pressure. 

“I assure you, Odinson, the only bed I took slumber in last night was my own, you must have dreamt this.” Loki told him innocently. “Why next you’ll being telling tales of magical duels in the dark of night and vendetta’s of blood.”

“You’re lying.” Thor almost growled at him and his grip tightened. Loki priced Thor’s fingers away from his wrist and leaned in close enough that their noses brushed against each other in one quick slide.

“Of course. What more would you expect?” He grinned and stood abruptly. “Now come, we leave for Asgard soon and there is still much to do.” Loki told him and with one little spin fled to make up some imaginary tasks to complete.   
~~~~L/T~~~~

“Loki!” Thor bellowed at Loki’s door, knocking hard and long enough to turn his knuckles red and hot. “Loki, please!” He begged at his companion’s door, but Loki made no sound, the halls of Asgard rang with only Thor’s voice. “I thought you would be pleased.” He confessed through the wooden frame.

“Pleased!” Loki swung back the door to glare at Thor in fury. The Asgardian prince could not help but notice the way his anger lit up his eyes in a way that was pleasing enough to distract from the look of absolute revolution etched onto Loki’s handsome face. “You thought I would be pleased!” He bit out furiously, his hands turned white on the door and Thor almost took a step back in nerves. “You really should play to your strengths Odinson, content yourself with vulgar brawn and leave thinking to those of us equipped for such spot.” He glared at Thor, his face pulled tight.

“But you hold the library dearer than any other place in Asgard, I thought it would be a pleasing gift, and you could keep it all to yourself.” Thor explained himself feeling like a child under the gaze of a disapproving adult, it was a struggle to remember that Loki was the same age as he was, if not a few years his junior.

“I already had the library, Odinson. You have given me a gift that was already mine by default, because no other soul in Asgard would want it!” Loki pointed out before pushing Thor out of the way and striding off down the hall. “But since you have so magnanimously gifted me with something I was free to own before, I shall use my new gracious gift and ban you from its doorways.” Loki told him and stormed off for the library. Thor’s shoulders slumped with misery. He had spent the longest time thinking of the perfect gift for Loki. He had sifted through every piece of gold, every gem and crystal that Asgard held, every piece that they had brought back with them from Vanaheim, but Loki had little interest in finery. Even when they sat in the great hall Loki preferred the shadowy garbs of green and black and his only embellishments were the pin from Thor and his horns. Thor’s gloom was cut over by a laugh behind him, he spun to see his mother look upon him fondly, one hand raised to shield more laughter from escaping.

“Oh, my dear sweet son, it seems you have yet to win your desired ones affections.” She commented, offered her arm to Thor. The Prince took his mother’s arm and laid his head gently on her shoulder.

“It seems the harder I try to win him the further he moves from me.” Thor told her sighing. Frigga ran gentle hands through her son’s hair and hid her smile in his brow. 

“Come now, it is not as bad as that, if Loki truly darkened at the sight of you he would have quit Asgard long ago. He stays for you. But you must think more on the words behind your gifts. Loki could read words in a summers breeze, I do not doubt he sees bad intentions in every offered hand.” Frigga told him gently. Thor lifted his head to look at her, he had not considered that. He had, in fact, been rather pleased at himself for realising that Loki might want the library as a gift. It had taken him four days to get his father’s permission to ban all others from its’ doorway and when he had presented Loki with the small ornate key he had expected to be met with a smile and possibly even a kiss for his troubles. Loki had only turned hissing at him and barred him from his sight. 

“Indeed you are right. But what could Loki gleam in my gifting him of the library?” Thor asked perplexed. If Loki had been a fair maid he would have given him a flower or a pretty gem, but Loki was far from a maid and Thor found himself adrift in how to proceed.

“Tell me, my son, what do you think of the library?” Frigga asked lightly.

“I find it dull, and far too quiet.” Thor admitted.

“And what do you think of reading?” Frigga asked one brow lifted.

“Tedious and pointless.” Thor murmured to the floor slightly ashamed, but he would not lie to his mother.

“Indeed.” Frigga scorned gently. “And Loki knows this, by gifting Loki with the library you are further exposing the facets of his personality that he knows you neither respect or share.” Thor hung his head at his mother’s words. 

“Loki is right, I am a fool.” He muttered and then his eyes brightened for Thor found sorrow to be a fleeting emotion within him ,easily pushed aside for happier things. “I must repent of this mistake at once, I shall find for Loki a gift that perfectly shows my esteem and honour of him and further shows him that his rightful place is by my side, now and until the ragnorok is called!” Thor swore and kissed his mother gently on the hand before tearing off. “Thank you, mother.” He called halfway down the corridor.   
~~~~L/T~~~~

Loki was furious. The innocent books under his fingers took the brunt of his fury as they were slammed shut with a flurry of dust. The library had been the one place that was Loki’s since he had first come to Asgard. It had been a sanctuary to him and on the rare occasions when his dreams filled his head with memories of breath-taking ice fields and a cold that wet your lungs as you breathed it in, it was the library that reminded him that this path he had chosen was the right one for him. All he had to do was sit in a seat, perfectly made for a man of his stature, and open any tome, delighting in the words and knowledge of scholars long dead, and he knew he was, for the moment, exactly where he was supposed to be. 

Thor had ruined that. Loki had not needed a key to bar others from the doorway. One raised eyebrow had been enough to dissuade the young scholars who would skitter away mouseishly from his glare, a few stern words, or even better a well-played trick of mischief kept others away. Thor had unwittingly implied that Loki was incapable of protecting his sanctuary from invaders without his oafish help. The very idea made Loki want to laugh. The worst of it being that Thor did it all with the insufferable desire to please Loki. Had looked at him as if Loki would melt into his arms, would have fallen to his feet and spoken Thor’s demented words to love and devotion back to him. He had thought the Odinson knew him better than that, thought more of him than that, apparently he had been mistaken. Loki had gone so far as to wander the palace in clear sight of everyone without the pin that the fool had given him, though he took pride in donning his helmet even if it was not the most comfortable thing to sit and read in for hours at a time. Irritated he pushed it off his head and sent it clattering to the floor, swiping his hair back and turning ice cold blue eyes on the shape that invaded his solace.

“This room in mine now, or had you not heard?” He bit out at the queen of Asgard. Frigga, far from being offended, merely moved in closer and took a nearby seat, her skirts making a soft and pleasing noise as they slid against each other.

“I am Queen of Asgard you would find it hard to bar me from any door.” She told him and Loki refused to smile at her, though he did always enjoy talking with the queen, she was far too clever to have the same potential as her son had but she had the capability for deception that was rare and refreshing in the golden city. 

“Truly, even when the decree comes from the king and his pup?” Loki asked abandoning his book, he could barely recall the title as it was, and shifting to gaze at the queen.

“You are not fool enough to neglect that the one with the greater title does not always wield the greater power.” Frigga told him knowingly and he narrowed his eyes at her but kept his smile pleasant.

“Oh indeed, the same way decrees must be spoken in bellowing chants but written in fathoms of ant scrawl, and thus the lawyer adds his say to even the kings command, and what seems and what is are rarely the same.” Loki crossed his arms and looked at her. “Of course, power such as those lesser creatures have is often cleaved in hard won affections, and affections are dangerously mercurial. Bonds of desperate love can and are overturned by the merest sway of a tempters hip.” Loki pointed out grinning eager to see what the queen would say.

“Perhaps, but remember that kings are not lawyers, and have not their art to write their wishes in ironclad words, and so too kings are not queens, and cannot act as if they were.” Frigga rebutted and Loki smirked.

“True, my queen, but not all of the womanly duties lead to power, there are lands where queens are known to do nothing but breed out heirs, lands where they must sit in ornament and are replaced when they start to flaw. A king is a king in any land, but a queen in the wrong soil is nothing, the same for any who stand too near the light of the crown.” Loki told her.

“Then I should be thankful that this is Asgard, and we have intellect enough to respect those who guide our rulers as well as those who rule us.” Frigga smiled and gazed out of the window. There was only one open, Loki’s moods tended to seek out darkness, but he had needed a little light to read from and burning candles in the middle of the day seemed such a waste. Dust hung heavy in the air as Loki had not so much as permitted a servant to step foot in the room since he had cloistered himself within it. “The blood line of Asgard is strong, brave and noble, blessed with many qualities, a desire to do good and to protect the weak, but cunning, strategy, rationality, no, such things are not for them. But if one were to arise who had such qualities, ready to add their quick thoughts to aid the crown the people would respect them.” 

“I doubt it. Asgard has much to say for heroes, for thinkers it has little care.” Loki reminded her. “Besides the love of the masses shifts with harvests and should be craved no more than the love of a mayfly, for it will last as long. Now come, I think you did not seek me for such talk. Tell me why you sit before me.”

“My son has wish to see you.” Frigga told him and Loki scoffed. “He awaits you in his chambers.” She told him and got to her feet brushing off the dust from her dress.

“And you expect me to run to his feet like a good dog?” Loki asked incredulous, a slightly cruel twist to his mouth.

“Of course not, I expect you to leave him at least an hour like any insulted lover.” Frigga told him and whisked her way out of the door.   
Loki stared at the hole she left in the room and shook his head. Asgard had done nothing but ill for him. He sat as still as he could, restless energy building in his body released in the jittering of his right leg making an irritating noise against the table as the harsh leather of his trousers rubbed against the thick wood. He leapt to his feet to cease the infernal noise and took to pacing the room. He would not go and see the Odinson that day. If the queen thought he would rush to him in an hour he would wait a day, perhaps even two. He smiled with pleasure at himself until the image of Thor came to his mind. Sincere eyes burning into him, a hand as hot as a brand resting on his cheek, the turn of his smile and the sheer dizzying bulk of him, the embodiment of the blinding sun. It had been days since he had graced the Odinson with his presence and he had not missed him. Loki did not feel such things; even the vague longing for the place that had served him as home and prison was far too sentimental for his liking. The idea that he might actually wish to see Thor made his hands clench with fury.

He decided that it might even be best if he did go and visit with the Odinson, whatever the fool had planned was undoubtedly going to move him to anger and banish any ridiculous longing he had to be in his company. With his resolution in place Loki moved to set off before changing his mind and taking a seat, a small grin on his face, it was perhaps best if Thor was left to stew for a short while as compensation for his blunder. Playful malice took over from rage and Loki found himself quite content to sit and read his books and the ever present thought that the Odinson waited for him made each word even more pleasing.  
~~~~L/T~~~~

Thor moved in his room restlessly, he was not sure if Loki was actually going to show after avoiding him for days. He had actually planned what to gift Loki with to make up for his rather thoughtless error after his talk with his mother but it had taken a few days for the smiths to forge. He hoped that Loki would like it. A brisk stately knock at his door made him start and he rushed to his door to see Loki standing before him looking bored and irritated, his mouth pulled into a tight line. 

“Well, you wished to see me?” he asked coldly. Thor could not take his eyes off him, after not seeing him for days it was bliss. His hair was slightly in disarray as if he had moved his hands through it recently throwing dark strands slicing over his pale skin. His blue eyes were so focused, lined with dark lashes to make them seem twice as large and mesmerizing. Even the smell of him made Thor want to move closer and get more, always more. He held himself back, he would do no good if he merely accosted Loki like a love sick fool, even if that was what he was. 

“Please, come in.” Thor stood aside to let Loki brush past him the soft drag of his leathers against Thor’s armour made the prince’s skin heat until a thin strip of sweat lined the gap between his skin and his tunic. Loki gazed at him in displeasure before taking a seat, his legs spread wide pulling the leather of his trousers taut and it took all Thor had not to stare. “I have a gift for you.” He told him and Loki huffed and leant back.

“Oh really? After the enormous success of your last courting gift?” Loki smirked at him. Thor was slightly surprised that Loki would acknowledge what it clearly was. Thor was courting Loki, all knew it, but it was rarely said, to have Loki say that he knew that was what was happening and not have him bite against it was a blessing.

“I was a fool, as you often say.” Thor admitted his head bowed. Loki laughed, his grim continence leaving him as if it had never been there, with Loki is was always difficult to tell which of his expressions were real, but that was half of the challenge. 

“Do not worry, my fool, I am equipped to remind you of your designation daily.” Loki told him with a little wicked smile and Thor approached him slowly.

“Happily I will hear it from you if it is every day for all eternity.” He told him, Loki looked away for a moment and Thor breathed through the awkwardness that ascended. “Here, this is for you.” He presented Loki with a long wooden box. Loki looked at him curiously for a moment and then unlatched it pulling out the contents. Inside was a staff, silver and inlaid with dazzling gems of green, blue and red. The silver had been engraved to look as if it was a branch of Yggdrasil fallen off it’s mighty frame, slightly twisted and snarled but beautiful still. Loki rose to swirl it easily in his fingers marvelling at the easy weight of it Thor hoped, for he had instructed that it need not be a weapon for striking. He had graced it with a savage tip perfectly curved to be a wicked thing, even more wicked in Loki’s expert hands. The air gave little more than a swish as Loki thrust his newest weapon through it experimentally before turning wide eyes on Thor, a look of confusion on his face as if he had no idea what to say. “Does it please you?” Thor asked and Loki looked at him for a long time merely blinking, the staff clutched safe in his fingers, sometimes twirling round in a pretty circle under the twist of his digits and then he threw it gently on Thor’s bed and moved towards him. Slowly slender hands reached up to the back of his neck and threaded slowly and deliberately through Thor’s hair until he could feel them resting as tempting pressure at the back of his head, slightly cool skin moving against his skull. Loki moved in just slightly and brushed their lips together, a soft sweet press of flesh on flesh before he moved backwards on his heels.

“It pleases me.” He whispered his lips still so near. Thor could not help himself and wound one arm around Loki’s waist tugging him back in closer.

“Do…do I please you?” He asked trying to ignore the hint of desperation that laced through his words.

“You please me.” Loki whispered back and that was all Thor needed to hear to pulled Loki towards him again and press their lips together. Loki tasted like winter, mulled wine and dried berries, the scent of dust from the library still clung to his hair and clothes leaving faint twangs of receding guilt running through Thor’s gut. He was not soft like a maid, there was nothing submissive to his kiss, nothing gentle but the pressure. Thor moved his leg pushing his limb in-between Loki’s and moved his hand down to find the small of Loki’s back seeking to pull their bodies as tightly as he could together. But then there was a knock on the door. Thor startled out of the kiss and lay his head on Loki’s shoulder, growling his displeasure out against Loki’s throat. Loki just laughed at him, the sweet tones vibrating against where his lips rested and he could not resist pressing them against the soft inviting skin of Loki’s neck, but sure hands pushed him away and smoothed out green and black clothing and slightly ruffled hair and with a small jerk of his head instructed Thor to adhere to social manners.

“Enter.” Thor snarled out much to Loki’s obvious amusement and a terrified servant entered looking from the two of them in a startled fashion. Loki just tittered.

“Nothing to fear, the Odinson and myself had a little disagreement, his anger is for me and not you, you need not fear his bristles this day.” Loki lied and took a comfortable seat.

“Actually, Sir, it’s you I seek.” The servant addressed Loki and the smug look fell for a moment before it was thrown back on.

“Well consider me found.” Loki told him courteously. “What need have you of me?” He asked a pale blue gaze trained in on the servant like a hunter.

“You are needed in the great hall, the King of Jottenheim has come for peace and wishes to see you.” What little colour Loki had in his cheeks left and he straightened himself out.

“Of course, I will be there at once.” Loki confirmed with a nod of his head, summoning his helm with a flick of his wrist and a swirl of green before placing it on his head.

“I will escort you.” Thor told him pulling his own helm, a plume of silver feathers, from its resting spot in the corner and slamming it on his head a little harder than was intended. Loki laughed sweetly at him, not the slightly malicious and often mocking tones of his true amusement, but Thor made no remark over it.

“Oh yes, a chicken and a cow, what a fearsome sight we shall make.” Loki smiled and without waiting for Thor strode off with large but silent strides towards the hall. Thor could do little more than follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frigga gets Loki's reasoning wrong on purpose by the way, even the people who almost get him can't really understand him. And I can't wait until the next chapter, Loki is going to have a big blow out with his brother and get a rather large ultimatum put on him. I have had the idea for this next bit going through my head all christmas! But because life always does this when you actaully want to write I won't be able to even start it for a few days! Typical! Happy new year everyone!


	12. Brotherly affections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's brother forces Loki to face something rather difficult

Part 12 Brotherly affections

By the time that Thor and Loki had reached the great hall Loki’s features had already subsided into a casual smirk and Thor’s guts tightened. The Jotun was preparing his mask so far in advance it spoke of a great roiling of anxiety within him. Thor clung to what Loki had claimed the last time they had seen the now Jotun-king, that Helblindi would not have Loki killed. Thor had no doubt that he would stand against any who did his friend and love harm, but he was not fool enough to believe that one could slay the king of a whole race and suffer no repercussions. He steeled himself, if his death meant Loki’s life than he was willing.

“Whatever idiotic thoughts are swirling in that cavernous brain of yours, stop them at once.” Loki’s voice barked at him and he turned to see Loki, one hand on his hip, glaring at him with his usual fond despair. “And school your face, you have the look of a man want to do deeds most reckless and unnecessary.” He sighed dramatically. “Have you learned naught from me, Odinson? Would my lessons have been better served to a rock or a tree? Come, if you were a lesser man I would instruct you to pretend you were of highest noble blood to incite you to stand tall and proud, but even without need to pretend it is a lie too far for you.”

“Forgive me…” Thor pretended to plea, there was something oddly comforting about having Loki chastise him. “…it is a most grievous wound to so disappoint my teacher. Only the warm heat of your pardoning smile can heal me, please say I am forgiven?”

“You are forgiven, if only because it would so ruin the great golden halls to be soiled by the hypothetical gushing of the Odinson’s blood.” Loki smirked and then without giving Thor a chance to collect himself shoved the door open and lazily strode in. Thor stepped behind him trying to make his face solemn and stately, a strange mirror to the casual sway of Loki. “Where is my dearest brother? I was told he wished to bask in my presence, and perhaps take word with me?” Loki asked unnecessarily, even those with the poorest of vision would not have missed the huge imposing blue figure set against the gold of Asgard, standing opposite the seated king and queen, but Loki still made a show of glancing all around until his eyes landed on Helblindi and a warm grin lit his face. “Greetings to the King of Jottenheim.” His lips quirked upwards as his gaze shifted over Helblindi critically. “Tell me, brother, is it the obligatory sitting, or the indulgence in feast that so often leads kings to such unflattering girth?” He asked wickedly.

“This is how you greet me?” Helblindi asked, his voice sounding tired. In truth Thor could not see much of a change from the prince that had visited Asgard not so long ago with their now deceased father. The only show of kingship was a dark blue crown that seemed set into the frosted skin of Helblindi’s brow, and the slightest glimmer of gold now banded around his middle finger on his right hand. “In base insult?”

“Why ever would I not? Did you not banish me? What is the king of Jottenheim to one who is decreed never to tread its land evermore? You hold no more authority over me than if you were the king of the sea bed, or if your kingdom were the shifting flames of the sun, such is the chance of finding myself under your rule once more.”

“I am still your brother.” Helblindi almost growled the words.

“Yes, and well you know how far fraternal affections tugs my heart.” Loki scoffed and lounged himself in a chair, patting the space next to him subtly for Thor to sit. Thor moved over the room past his mother and father and took a seat glaring down the Jotun king without fear.

“You will not speak of our brothers.” Helblindi warned. “Or the dark deeds you worked against them.”

“My lips are sealed.” Loki beamed out a vicious grin at the twisted reference to his former punishment, the one Thor himself had relieved him of. Helblindi’s hands tightened by his side. “Now come, bickering with you grows so dull. State your wants and have it done.” Loki commanded, his brazen attitude never failing to shock and impress Thor.

“I do not wish you to live this life, brother.” Helblindi told him earnestly and Thor could see why Loki had moved as his dark blade, for Helblindi had the eyes of a good man, a man of honour that, had he been born of Asgard, would have served him to his greatest credit. “I will not have you doing dark deeds in a liar’s skin. I declare you shall take this guise on no longer.” Thor didn’t dare turn to watch Loki but in his peripheral vision he caught the slight widening of his eyes. 

“What right have you over my skin? If I wish to flay it all from my flesh and walk around with naught but dripping meat than who shall have power to stop me?” Loki asked as if he was bored. 

“I shall make it a condition of peace.” Helblindi told him coldly. “You may stay in Asgard but not clothed in this lie. It is unworthy.”

“And if I should choose to leave Asgard?” Loki asked with a cock of his head and Thor felt his heart beat faster in panic.

“I am a king, Loki, with power and reach.” Helblindi spoke in almost sad tones. “I would not have you rail against me over this, I would have you see that it is what is right. In the name of the dead king do not soil our fathers name further.

“You think to entice me to obedience with a dead man’s name? You are more fool than I thought. Tell me brother will you next chain me with but the memory of irons? ” Loki sniggered to himself.

“I do not entice your obedience I demand it.” Helblindi spoke and Loki opened his mouth to refute him.

“The crown of Asgard agrees.” Odin spoke, a stamp of Gungnir on the floor. Thor turned to him in horror.

“Father, you cannot…” Thor started to protest but a hand reached around his wrist and there was Loki looking at him then flicking his eyes to the Allfather with a strange blank look on his face.

“Think of every soldier we lost in the war between our people.” Thor’s father spoke with the harsh unquestioning tones of a king and even Thor knew better than to try and make him waver. “Picture their faces if you can, recall the names of their wives and children. You will not kill them again for the wants of one Jotun runt.” The grip on Thor’s wrist tightened for a moment before loosening and slipping away. 

“I am agreed.” Loki spoke getting fluidly to his feet. “When next to show my face it will be no lie.” His voice was flat and dead. “But I will not debase myself to stand wrapped in forced skin under your so approving gaze. I do not expect to see you more, King of Jottenheim.”

“I do this for you, brother.” Helblindi assured him almost gently and Loki turned huge blue eyes towards him and smiled.

“Then I must tell you for next time; a knife is much quicker, brother.” Loki told him as if reciting an old adage and before more could be said whisked himself away.

“I do, in truth, mean him no harm by this…” Helblindi started his eyes on Thor and the Odinson found an uncomfortable ball of hate grow within him.

“Nor does the falling rock mean to crush the grass under it, but when it stops the field is still marked with its tracks.” Thor bit out repeating something Loki had said to him once, and followed Loki as the Jotun made a hasty journey to his own quarters.

Loki moved quickly and did not heed Thor’s calls down the corridor but Thor managed to catch the edge of his door as it moved to swing shut and force it back open to follow Loki in. The Jotun was seething with anger.

“Loki!” Thor called his name and Loki turned to him his eyes glowing green. “Loki look to me, take calm.” He pleaded and gripped hold of Loki tightly at the shoulders. “This changes nothing.” Loki looked at him a moment and then laughed, his tone high and cruel.

“What is it about goodness and nobility that turns men to fools? You are no better than he is, for more sense may be read in the spillage of a whore’s quim than might be heard from your words.” He glared Thor down with eyes as cold as flint. “Tell me, Odinson, does honesty weight so heavy on a mind that not even a little slip of intelligent thought may join it? You are a fool, Thor. Think you that Asgard will cheer my little truth?” Loki asked with a savage smile. “Think you they will allow a Jotun to stand by the side of their heir?”   
Thor could not speak, for he knew there would be consequences. “And what of you? How will your sweet words sour when whispered in cold blue skin?” Under his vision pale white bled into blue, pigment less and solid colour marked with the raised indentations of his clan, eyes blinked at him red as the heart of a ruby, but wet like the heart of a fresh kill and still lined with a set of dark lashes. Thor could not help but take a deep breath, it seemed that it had been forever since he had seen Loki such and it was intoxicating. “Or perhaps they will cease altogether and a fairer mark will catch your…” Loki paused and looked at him puzzled, a dampening of sweat was starting on the Jotun’s brow and under the harsh leather of his outfit his chest breathed in strain. The sight alone was enough to dry Thor’s mouth. “This…this enamours you?” Loki asked moving away and wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. 

“It does.” Thor admitted and Loki turned to him as if madness had taken him and gave nothing in response but a small huff of a laugh. “You do not wish me to?”

“It is of little consequence, merely a surprise.” Loki told him, starting to fidget with the collar of his robes. “Now please, leave me a little while, I need to think and I cannot focus with this cursed heat!” The words were almost gritted out through Loki’s clenched jaw and Thor reprimanded himself for the dark jab of want that uncurled in his stomach.

“I shall see you shortly?” Thor asked hopefully and Loki gave him a reproachful look that settled into a smile.

“I shall dine with you and yours in the hall this night.” Loki swore to him and satisfied Thor left trying to calm his mind against images of Loki’s blue skin pressed tightly against his, the fidget of heated flesh, and wide red eyes darkening with desire.

~~~~L/T~~~~

As soon as the Odinson was out of sight Loki ripped at the collar of his outfit. The black leather he wore had never felt so heavy or burdensome as that moment and he fought to free himself of them. But desperation turned his hands clumsy, and sweat moistened his skin making even the simplest of tasks such as sliding a buckle out of its clasp into a clammy fumble. With a flash of irritation he shifted back into his borrowed skin the difference greeting him like the press of cool water and the sweat was easily banished with a wave of his hand. A frivolous use of his craft but even he was not beyond using his powers for his own amusement and comfort. Satisfied that he was no longer moments away from melting into a puddle on the floor Loki took deep settling breaths and sat on the edge of his bed and surveyed his options. He could beg Helblindi to let him back into Jottenheim, there was little doubt that with the right words his goodly brother would be convinced to open his doors and heart to him once more. But Jottenheim was no home to him.

Jottenheim was a hard land, a hardness that went deeper than the frosted landscape. There was good reason why runts such as Loki were left to die, Jottenheim was a land where every soul worked to keep themselves alive there was no room for assisting others. The first thoughts that Loki could remember were thinking himself cursed. It had eaten at him with sharper teeth than the cold, he was nothing more than a curse soul, doomed forever to be a blemish on Jottenheim. There were nights he wished he had been taken by death on the night of his birth. When he was a little older he realised that he was a curse, he was a curse on the house of Laufey. He would not sit quietly back and allow them to forget he existed, allow them to think him dead like so more before him, and so Loki had pushed himself into the great hall of the Jotun king and laid his blood on the walls declaring himself as a rightful son, and no man had the power to tell him otherwise. He was the greatest curse Jottenheim ever had, a walking reminder of what happened to those who were deemed unsuited to Jottenheim life, a phantom of every child not given more than a few minutes of breath, of every invalid taken from their beds and spared the indignity of living, Loki walked with a thousand ghosts footsteps. 

Of course, being such an embarrassment to his family was a dangerous business. But Loki was no fool, he had survived while others had died because he was not born a simple thing. Loki already knew more than any in the palace could think to learn and he wielding his mind like a weapon. Not only did he match his brothers, larger, stronger, and older than he was, most of them already men, but he outdid them. He sat on chairs built for larger frames with a grace that belied the difficulty in lifting himself to the seat. He spoke with a loud voice at every meeting as if his words should hold more weight than even the most senior of the elders and all before his last milk tooth fell. There were plots against him almost weekly in those first few years, poison in his food, knives in every shadow, but Loki avoided them all, and more importantly he managed to make each escape look effortless. He learnt that it mattered not what someone did but how, and his effortless escapes spread more tales that he was a wicked thing born under darkness. It was then that the stories started, the first lie he ever told was of his survival. He looked his eldest brother, the then heir, in the eyes and told a tale of being reborn of a womb of snow, in the middle of a dark night, covered with the blood of some deformed atrocity, and tongue laced with poison. The look of fear and disgust on his brother’s face filled some secret place within him and he smiled taking joy for the first time. 

Only one soul other than himself knew the true story of his survival and that was Helblindi, though his brother thought he had a lie like all others. Helblindi was different from his other brothers, not softer so much as more thoughtful. He was the one who raised the younger ones, Loki included, leaving the two eldest to tasks worthy of heirs. It was Helblindi who gave Loki his first knife and taught him to use it, it was Helblindi who did not even curse when Loki outdid him, and instead clasped his shoulder with pride. It had been at that moment that Loki had sworn that he would give Helblindi the crown through any means necessary. He spent years grooming his older brother for his succession, keeping Helblindi’s hands clean from any dirty business, not allowing a single scandal to hit him, but doing so he crafted himself into a wicked thing. All of Jottenheim loathed him, whispers rocked over ice if he walked past. Jottenheim was a prison and he would not return there.

Loki did not believe, however, that Asgard was necessarily his home. Certainly he would not leave it anytime soon as he did not trust the Odinson to not get himself hurt in his absence. But the idea of walking the halls of Asgard as a Jotun daunted him. The war had hardly been over a moment and he would take the appearance of the most feared and hated race. It was hardly likely to be embraced by the Asgardians. Loki sighed and lay back on his bed, defeated. He could hide his form, have a long cloak made for himself, claim some unsightly pox afflicted him and never show his face to man again. He wondered if he would allow the Odinson to look on him, certainly there had been no guile in the way he had stared at him before Loki had asked him to quit his chambers, but such inclinations could ware off easily. Loki shut his eyes to the world, utterly defeated.

Angry he sat up straight and frowned. Loki was not defeated. Loki could not be defeated. There was no obstacle, no affliction, that he would not overcome. Loki knew things that others did not, he knew the power of words, of appearance. He was the only Jotun runt to ever live a day. Not only was he going to walk into the halls of Asgard as the darkest of their monsters, but he was going to make them love him for it. But first he needed to assemble a few things.

~~~~L/T~~~~

Thor was fidgeting, the lamps were lit for the evening meal and still there was no sign of Loki, no dark cloaked head or figure lurking in the shadows and Thor feared that the Jotun had left. His chest tightened as he imagined Loki turned into a magpie and fluttering away, and Thor wondered if he would take his pin this time.

“Thor!” Fandal boomed and smacked his shoulder. “Pray, may I sit by you?” He asked with a smile.

“Nay, my friend, that seat is saved for another.” Thor told him.

“Loki?” Fandal asked and took the next seat leaning half over the gap of a chair between them. His mother on his other side squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “And where, pray tell, is he?” 

“He is delayed on some private matter.” Thor told him stiffly.

“Loki is dear to you is he not?” Fandal looked away slightly at his empty plate.

“Indeed.” Thor confessed.

“I have noted the way you look on him, Thor, I know the nature of your endearment to him, and for what weight my words might have, in some strange way that begs all rational thought and previous evidence, I think never has a soul suited you more.” Fandal confessed taking up his cup to hide his rather embarrassing conduct. Thor grinned at him.

“I thank you, my friend. Your words are kindly. I know I have not been present much…” Thor started to apologise when Fandal’s gaze left his own face in the reflection of his cup and stared at something by the door, his mouth dropping open.

“By Yggdrasil’s branches.” Fandal breathed and swallowed. Thor turned his head to catch the commotion, and indeed the whole hall was alive with mutterings and clamber. There at the door was Loki. But he was not dressed in green and black leather as was his habit. Around his waist was slung a pure white loincloth draped to sway over the shape of his thighs as he walked, trimmed with dark fur and shimmering silver discs woven into the edging. Around his shoulders was hung a cape of red, sat so that a line of cloth hung over the line of his collar bone and attached to either side of his shoulders with little pins, one the sun and moon pin that Thor had given him and the other the jagged symbol of Jottenheim carved from blue crystal. Other than that all Loki wore was skin. Skin the colour of the evening sky after it is done with its garish display of oranges and purples, just before it gives in to night. The raised indents of his skin made it look at though a man might read his flesh with the same ease as the engraved tablets in his father’s vault. The sinewy lines of his muscles shifted as he moved with the roll of skin over sharp bones. The loin cloth hung so low that the eye could trace the dip of his groin and it was struggle for Thor to not gaze too long at the bare, hairless, v of flesh that would lead to his beloveds sex. Thor could say nothing as Loki slinked his way over to him and took his seat as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

“You…you look…” Thor started and Loki turned to him, arching one eyebrow and smiling slightly, the flash of red inside his mouth and the sharp white of his teeth a brighter contrast against his darker skin.

“Yes?” Loki inquired turning to give Thor his full attention.

“You look most becoming.” He finally pushed out and Loki smiled pleased.

“I hope you do not mind I have thieved one of your old cloaks.” Loki asked though his tone indicated he did not care either way. Thor was in no state to care, Loki could have taken Mjolnir from him at that moment and he would hardly have raised complaint. “I merely thought red would serve as better compliment.” He added his eyes flashing with the same vivid colour.

“Nay, I care not, it suits you far more than it ever did me.” Thor told him, his hand moving of its own volition to stroke the bare skin of Loki’s naked arms. The skin was cool but not cold and almost power soft to his touch. Loki caught his hand before it could explore more and placed it back on Thor’s own knee, lingering a second longer than need required.

“I shall have to sew something in the back to hold my staff.” He mused aloud starting to serve himself.

“Your staff?” Thor muttered bewildered he had almost forgotten.

“Indeed for I have such plans, Odinson.” Loki’s voice was nothing more than a whisper, intoxicating and dark and Thor found himself wishing they were not in the crowded Asgardian halls but in the locked privacy of his quarters that he might pry for some glimmering of Loki’s plans or just for one more touch of his chilled skin. Thor swallowed and forced himself to stare at his plate and not the smirking figure to his side, and wondered how he was going to get through the meal.


	13. A Prince and a monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki masks his fears in an unusual manner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Umm...slight warning things are about to get a little x-rated, though in a slightly odd way. It felt right when i wrote this but let me know if it's a bit too weird. Also Loki's political views are not my own, I just figured he would be very very practical.

Part 13 A Prince and a monster

“No!” Loki called from the other side of the room and Thor halted immediately. “Larger. With more confidence.” Loki admonished, hastily stepping towards him. “Hold your head higher, your back straighter.” He took his place right by Thor’s side and made sure that he was watching him with a quick red glare. He need not have taken the time for if Thor could choose it he would look at nothing but Loki until the end of days. “With me once more.” Loki commanded and they stepped forward. Thor tried to remember everything that Loki had said about keeping his strides deep and confident, matching the perfectly made steps of the cerulean Jotun to his side.

“It is but steps, Loki, no one shall care how they are made.” Thor tried to keep the whine from his voice, they had been at this a week and Loki had found fault with everything.

“Of course they shall care.” Loki told him a smug look on his face. “Stars are judged by the shapes they form, and men by their stride.” He told him briskly and fetched a large book from Thor’s desk. The prince groaned at the sight. “Do not throw yourself in misery yet, Odinson, it is not for you to read.” Loki told him and placed the book perfectly balanced on his own head giving a little twirl in a neat and poised circle without the book so much as wavering and then handing it to Thor. “You shall train with this until a time I am satisfied you can keep your brow from drooping.” He told him and Thor took the book and tried with difficulty to balance it on his head.

“I do not see why I must walk so, you do not.” He noted petulantly and Loki laughed in his sweet mocking tones, the ones that sent shivers down Thor’s shine. 

“Of course I do not.” Loki told him gleefully taking a seat on the now emptied desk, his beautifully marked legs bent over the edge, bare all the way to his thighs and Thor had to swallow and look away for fear of trailing his sight up those lean limbs to where the pure untouched white of his loincloth met in stark lines with his blue skin. Loki indeed did not move beside Thor with the same measures steps he had just made in practise, and it was because of this that Thor was having so much trouble remembering the carriage of his step, for next to him would be Loki, his hips swaying, his bones rolling under his skin like a cats, a casual gait with an air of sin that set Thor’s blood to boiling.

“You should know I saw some ladies of the court affecting your grace, they did not do it with as pleasing motions as you though.” Thor told him with a smile.

“They think to win your attention by the affecting of my habits.” Loki laughed in a cold bark. “Such foolishness.” He declared.

“Indeed, for you are the soul barer of my attentions, their little plays could no more move my sight from you then candles could lure the eye from moonlight.” Thor declared and Loki’s face set for a moment his lips coming tight in reproach before continuing as if Thor had not re-declared his suit. 

“It would do no good if I stood by you pretending to be some noble knight, now would it? I can make people believe many things, Thor, but they must want to believe it. No, I walk as foil to you. The shade to your light, the dark deeds to your valour, the monster to your prince.” Loki told him lighting up with glee. Thor abandoned the book and strode forth to Loki placing himself before him, half blockade and half offering. 

“You are no monster, Loki.” He swore to him taking his face in one hand, marvelling at how his skin was so soft, how the raised lines on his skin were so slight under his thumb. Less raised from the surface then they appeared, like Loki was forged of the richest silks and someone had sewn delicate hemming into the shape of it. Thor wondered if he would ever tire of the sight of them running under his fingers as if he was painting them to the skin. “And you are not my foil, or shadow. You are the completion of me.” He told him softly watching red eyes for anything other than bored distaste.

“Such pretty words you have today.” Loki told him with a sneer that did not reach the pretty rubies of his eyes, and he made no move to shirk off Thor’s hand, and the prince dared to dream he even moved slightly towards his grasp. “But pretty words will not end my teaching, now back with you to steps, it would shame all of Asgard to know that its prince struggles with what an infant might master.” Loki dismissed him with a look as chilled as the skin still under Thor’s hand.

“Loki…” Thor muttered his name almost as a beg. “…I plea tell me there is hope?” He asked, his meaning clear. Loki stared at him a long while as if contemplating an answer. Thor stared at him with utter seriousness until the face under his gaze broke into a smile.

“Why would you wish for something as temporary as hope? Hope is but a trifle. Why, men see hope in the scattering of the stars, or in the role of a die. If you want hope it is yours to see, not mine to give.” Loki pushed him aside with an open hand. “No it is not hope you want, for hope you may take in barrelful’s with no mind to me, it is reward you desire.” Loki smiled at him through eyes narrowing at his own dark pleasures. “And it is rewards I gift to you, my company, my place by your side as you dine, my words both for pleasure and for duty, and my staff ever ready to defend your name and blood.” The silver staff was never far from Loki’s hand and he wielded it as if his birth and its own had been one. “What more could you beg of me?” Loki asked and Thor hung his head knowing he was unable to say it. That one brief moment of passion had been so much and yet so little, and afterwards Loki had acted as if it was nothing more than a fantasy held by Thor alone and not a moment shared between them. “Now come, you would see Asgard fall to ruin for the petty desires of your flesh.” Loki laughed lightly but there was something to way he spoke the word ‘flesh’ that shivered over Thor’s skin as if it was a feather brushed against him and not a word spoken to air. “Back with you to motions.” Loki sat in comfort on Thor’s bed and the prince wished that he would not. It was too easy to imagine what might be if he could but press Loki to the furs on his bed, how pretty he might look laid out in the heart of them like some unwrapped gift. Thor took a deep breath and forced himself to stride, hoping that he might, in some small way, please Loki. 

Barely had he taken three more unsuccessful circuits around the room when a knock disturbed them. A messenger entered at Thor’s command. It was nothing more than a boy who shuddered with fear under both the authority of the king’s son and the glittering red glare of the Jotun. 

“A message, my prince.” He stammered out with his head bowed offering the letter to Thor. Thor however stood still, this was at least well practised to him now and he remained passive as Loki swayed from his place to pull the letter from the messengers hand and look at its signing.

“It comes from the king’s advisor Jorolv.” Loki told him adding a sibilant whisper to his tones that made his voice seem as if it was nothing more than a wisp of rolling fog in the room. Loki handed the parchment to Thor with a flick of his wrist.

“Is that all?” Thor asked practising at the awe inspiring boom that Loki was coaxing his voice to.

“No, my Prince. The King wishes to see you once you have had chance to ponder your message.” His young voice wavered.

“Very good, I will be with him shortly.” Thor assured him and the messenger bowed and scuttled from the room leaving Loki and Thor. The Jotun slunk back to the bed and sat, one leg folded under him. 

“So, what has Jorolv to say?” Loki asked with interest. Thor opened the letter and read it shrugging as he finished it.

“There is to be a summit between the realms, trade agreements, nothing of worth or interest.” Thor told him. Loki stared at him in shock and Thor wondered what he had said to bring so stunned an expression to Loki’s face. 

“How can one such as you be heir?” Loki admonished and leapt up to snatch the letter from Thor’s hands. “Come now, Odinson, this is of importance.” He declared a sly grin on his face.

“You mean to use this for some mischief, do you not?” Thor asked unable to hide his grin at the thought. 

“Such scandal you lay against me, Odinson, as if I could have such wickedness within me.” Loki declared with mock affront before patting the bed next to him for Thor to sit and with a swish of his hand pulling a quill and ink pot from nowhere. Thor sat by him peering over his shoulder as he set to make notes on the letter. “Now, let us see this…first you can lower your prices for trade with the dwarves. Their harvest was dismal this year, they’ll have no choice but to agree to whatever prices you name and the armoury could use a nice boost, and the observatory for the Bifrost should be reinforced, some of the metal is beginning to tarnish…”

“Their harvest was poor?” Thor asked in concern.

“Indeed, forgers do not flourishing famers make, they have no concept of leaving fields farrow to regenerate.” Loki shook his head at the disgrace of it. “I imagine they’ll have to trade as much weaponry and metals as they can to import enough food to last the next winter.” Loki claimed dispassionately.

“That is appalling.” Thor told him frowning. “Why, if they are in need should Asgard not simply give them the food they need.” Loki blinked at him as if he was a fool.

“And where pray tell will you get this food? You would take it from the mouths of your own people; steal the profit from the hands of those who have toiled on your lands soil for generations? And think you that your people would love you for this? Nay, remember, Odinson, that never did a man get anything that was not taken from another.” Loki advised him dryly, his ability to see beyond compassion at once exciting and chilling. “Besides the elves and Vanir always have need for their glittering jewels, the dwarves will merely have to sacrifice some of their splendour for more immediate needs. May the norns help them, without the glitter of their wealth they shall be forced to look on each other, such a sorry fate.” Loki told him in an offhandish way. “Oh look at this, the crown of Asgard means to back Kirill in the succession of the Dark elves, such folly.” Loki snorted.

“Kirill is a moderate. He seeks peace between Asgard and Svartalheim, how can we not back him for succession?” Thor asked. “You do not seek another war?” 

“Nay, of course not.” Loki scoffed. “But Kirill is illegitimate, all in Svartalheim know this. Even if no soul may prove his birth and he should take leadership the council would tie his hands at every turn out of spite. Nay, Asgard should back his brother Eseross, he may hate Asgard with his father’s heart but he is a coward.”

“What of the middle brother…Orn?” Thor asked.

“Oh, I would not bother much with him, word is he is a deviant who looks on the young as most look on a well formed maid. Such a flaw cannot sit in hiding for all time and when he is discovered…” Loki let the implication stand with one raised eyebrow.

“How come you to know all this, hardly are you ever out of my happy sight?” Thor asked.

“How pretty birds must sound when all you hear is chirp and song.” Loki told him with a smile and glanced over the rest making marks and giving Thor advice every now and then. Finally satisfied Loki held up the parchment and with a wave of his hand changed the scrawl written on it to Thor’s hand. “And so is Asgard well advised for another day.” Loki grinned, a flash of white teeth.

“The crown gives thanks.” Thor whispered unable to stop his hands from drawing Loki towards him, one hand on his chin to tilt their faces together.

“You say give but I think you mean to take.” Loki whispered but did not pull back. Thor’s hand reached towards his bare stomach gliding his hands over tightening muscles and those fascinating markings. “Are they of such interest to you?” Loki asked, their lips so close the shape of the sounds made them brush against each other. “Such petty things to draw your attention, of no more significance than the pigment of your skin.” He told him.

“There is no part of you unworthy of attention.” Thor’s hand skimmed upwards and he felt the Jotun shudder under his touch. “Does this displease you?” he asked gently.

“It is of too little consequence to displease.” Loki told him moving back a little. “I am unused to such affections is all.” Loki told him with a sniff as if it was of little significance.  
“Now come, your father awaits you.” Thor sighed and laid his head defeated on Loki’s naked shoulder.

“Walk me to his room?” He asked. “I shall not be long and then we may while some time away in the gardens?”

“It is of discomfort to learn that a prince has such free time to while away.” Loki smirked getting to his feet. “But the gardens are pleasant enough I suppose, and it shall make such a sight; a Jotun awaiting a princes return.” Loki laughed and hauled Thor to his feet. “Come.”

~~~~L/T~~~~

Odin glared down at Thor once he had looked over the parchment. Thor fidgeted impatient to return to Loki on the other side of the door. 

“These are not your thoughts.” Odin declared darkly and next to him Frigga smiled. “These thoughts are the musings of another.” He threw the parchment to the floor.

“Are they bad thoughts?” Frigga asked innocently. “Do they do Asgard a disservice?”

“Only in the vile nature in which they were conceived.” Odin snapped. “These plans, do you know what they are, Thor? Do you know what name may be given to these?” Thor stayed quiet. “They are plots! The thoughts of a snake.”

“They will lead to a prosperous Asgard.” Thor defended.

“Thor, I grow tired, the Odinsleep calls to me like air calls to the drowning. You are of age now that you need no Regent to stand for you, you are my son and should reign in your own name while I rest. But how can I rest while that serpent curls around you? I do not trust Loki.” He declared.

“Loki would find your trust an unappealing gift.” Thor tried to keep his lips from quirking upwards into a smirk. “He needs not your trust for he has mine, father, and he has my ear in all things. These plans I did not bring to you blind, Loki has explained each to me and I see the good in them even if you cannot. I do not ask you to trust Loki, I ask you to trust me.” Thor told his father and he caught his mother’s eyes to his side beaming at him. Odin sighed and for one moment he looked as tired as he claimed, a sickening rush of anxiety flooded Thor’s chest at the idea that soon it might be his hand grasped around the sceptre. 

“You have my faith, my son. And while I wish I could, I cannot bar from displeasing company.” Thor felt his father stare at him a long while, his one eye glaring down at him, its single focus making his gaze more pinpointed. “Send him in, I know he waits outside. A dog and its master are never far from each other.” Odin snarled and turned disapproving to his son. “Though which is which may be debated.” After a moment of talk at the door Loki strode in, his sinful meandering gait ever present as he made his way to the throne and smiled happily at Odin. “Loki Laufeyson, the crown hereby recognises your authority as advisor to the prince royal.” Thor felt his heart sore but he caught the tension in Loki’s jaw at once. 

“Subject to the same checks and balances as any other advisor I assume?” Loki asked unkindly.

“Indeed.” Odin replied and Thor wanted to hang his head at the tension between his father and beloved. 

“I am most honoured. I will present myself to the royal council at its next meeting, I am sure they will be most thrilled over what I shall have to say.” Loki told him a large grin on his face. “My Prince, shall we to the gardens?” He offered through thick lashes to Thor who nodded in a rush to leave the room and started to take up quick hurried steps earning a glare of error from Loki. They were halfway to the door when Loki stopped turning on his bare feet to the Allfather. “I almost forgot, never did I give you your own account of my survival.” Loki told him.

“I need not one of your stories, Jotun, be gone.” Odin told him.

“Oh by they are such interesting tales, why if they were all collected and written to parchment there is not leather thick enough to bind them all together.” Loki chuckled. “How could I deny the king of all of Asgard his own?”

“Fine, speak and be done, I have had my fill of you.”

“I could not die as that little babe. The Odinson was far too stubborn to let me fade to nothing before he had chance to meet me.” Loki grinned with malice and strode off overtaking Thor out of the room. Leaving him no choice but to follow, the warmth settling in his stomach at the thought of it being true tempered by the churn of anxiety at yet another altercation between Loki and his father. But when Loki turned back to him his face was lit with mischievous glee and it was hard to even remember the gold of the throne room next to it. 

~~~~L/T~~~~

Though one would never tell by looking at him Loki was nervous. Had in fact been a gaggle of anxious energy for days now. But he was practised enough to be able to lie out on the grasses of Asgard with perfectly convincing nonchalance. He had barely slept since Thor had gifted him with his staff and he had, in an act of outrageous folly, given in to the advances of the Odinson. Even presenting his Jotun form out to the court of Asgard held nothing in light of the disturbing thought that niggled at his mind.

Sex.

Loki had never been one for intimacy. As a deformed creature in his own realm there had been no question of mating with another, no need to study the intricacies of courting or other such nonsense. And certainly he had never found reason to think of another of his race as arousing. 

But Thor made his stomach ache at times. Even earlier in that day when the Odinson had laid his hand upon Loki’s skin and sent shivers of such sweet heat over him it had been all he could do to gaze lazily back. Loki had taken to the library after Thor had first announced his bewildering affections for Loki and researched all he could over the subject, and had some vague idea of the kinds of acts that two men might enter into. It seemed that the scholars of Asgard had no more knowledge of the scandalous books it held when it came to those of the sexual then it did the numerous dangerous and outlawed texts it housed. Loki had devoured all the information that he could, had read of every different use of such acts. The use of them in humiliation and punishment had seemed more familiar to the way that it was used back in Jottenheim but he doubted that was what the Odinson had in mind. The texts of romance bored him and were far too clawing, and those of strictly anatomical descriptions left him vexed over what was necessary and what was for pleasure. Any other faced in such a state would most probably have handed directing of the situation over to the one with most personal knowledge, or at the least confessed their inexperience. To Loki though this was unthinkable and so he fell back onto that which he knew, he was devious. 

“This is most unfair.” He mused aloud to Thor as they sat out on the grass, the red cape unclasped and stretched out as a blanket under Loki. “My nature leaves me almost completely bared to the elements while you are able to cover your modesty. It is most impolite of you.”

“Loki?” Thor lifted himself onto his elbows to look at the Jotun and Loki pushed down a victorious smirk at the bewildered expression on his face. “You know it is my dearest wish to make you more comfortable, do you wish me to speak to one of mothers handmaidens? There might be some cloth that could be enchanted to cool the skin.” Thor started to ramble and Loki looked over him.

“If there was such I would know it myself.” He pointed out pretending to take insult. “Perhaps if you were not so finely dressed…I think it should be pleasant enough in temperature to not cause you discomfort.” He said casually.

“You…you wish me to undress?” Thor asked swallowing hard and his eyesight dipping downwards in a way that Loki pretended not to notice.

“Perhaps you might remove your tunic, I would not ask more of you. No one frequents this spot but the two of us if you worry for your modesty.” Loki flashed him a grin and Thor pulled his tunic up and over his head with such speed it was as if it was on fire. Loki gifted him a pleased smile and laid back down, waiting until the Odinson did the same and then rolling over the ground to touch his fingers against the startlingly warm flesh of Thor’s chest. Loki could feel the sharp intake of breath inflate Thor’s lungs, drawing up his ribs. Shakily one warm hand found Loki’s shoulder and caressed over it. Terror washed over Loki though outwardly he smiled pleasantly before removing the hand and laying it to the soft grass below them, his eyes conveying a message with as much mischievous sparkle as he could to overlay the nerve rattling anxiety gripping him. 

Slowly he let his hand drift over Thor’s chest. The Odinson was built for war. Muscle everywhere under his touch, dipping and curving, and hard as the blunt of a sword under the furnace of his flesh. It took Loki as a surprise to find the swirl of pleasure at that. He had not expected to enjoy Thor’s strength in any other way than to wield it as if it was his own on the field. Loki was almost tempted to end this little farce at that moment but with his best confident smile in place he continued. His hand soon found the hair on Thor’s chest, the same almost dry texture as that on his face, so different from the soft tresses on his head. It was so different from anything that Loki had known before that his anxiety left him in a moment of purely intellectual exploration. He moved his hand through the light coloured fur until his fingers came to something recognisable, the soft peak of Thor’s nipple. He barely considered his own for they served no purpose but as he ran his nail over Thor’s he noted the hitch of his breath. Heart hammering with fear he smirked in a way he hoped seemed superior and knowing, and skimmed his finger over it again just to hear him shudder. 

Again one of Thor’s hands made its way over Loki’s skin but again he placed it back on the grass, if Thor were to touch him he would realise at once that Loki was but a novice at such things and the thought irked at the Jotun’s pride. Instead he skimmed his hand lower, running over the abdominal muscles, skirting around Thor’s belly button and dancing over the few hairs that grew just above the buckle of Thor’s hose. Loki ran his fingers tracing the lines of the fine golden buckle, memorising it’s patterns with the slide of one elegant digit. He kept his eyes on his own finger not daring to look at Thor, his gut clenched with stress all the while trying to exude a confidence that he far from felt. Already the shape of Thor’s sex was plain against the strained fabric of his hose and Loki rubbed the tips of his fingers over it gently making Thor whine unseen. Slowly Loki unbuckled Thor’s belt and slipped his hand inside.

He gasped, luckily Thor’s own moan disguised it and Loki clenched his jaw tight in a silent reprimand for being so careless. If he had thought that Thor’s chest was warm to the touch it was nothing compared to the heat of the skin now under his fingertips. It almost burned against his skin, strangely pleasant and intriguing. Loki forced himself to ignore it and focus on what he was attempting and withdrew Thor’s half hardened cock from his breeches, fingers brushing at more downy hair circling its base. Loki swallowed as it came to sight though he was not truly surprised. Thor was large, long and thick, and growing slightly larger as it hardened under his touch. Loki was not a fool he knew what the Odinson ultimately saught from him and at that moment staring down with as much dispassion as he could muster Loki was terrified at the thought of such a thing breaching his body, and humiliated at the dark pang at the back of his mind that sizzled with joy at the thought. He pushed that particular thought away as he left the cock to massage gently at Thor’s balls, rolling them in his hand and trying his best to remain detached from the sighs and moans and worst still the whispering pleas of Loki’s name coming from Thor. Loki moved back to his shaft and pumped his hand around it a few times pleased, in a clinically removed fashion, at the gasp it produced. 

Even with his disinterest Loki was still an animal and there was not an animal that at some point did not take pleasure in themselves and so he knew the basics of this particular act. He shifted his hand tightly over Thor’s cock listening for the sounds of pleasure coming from behind him to better accomplish his quest. A quick glance a little higher confirmed that Thor had threaded both hands into the grass under him and reassured Loki that he was in no danger of large wandering hands caressing him at any moment. When he looked back a little dew drop of pearl coloured liquid had gathered on the swollen red tip of Thor’s cock and Loki unthinking rubbed it into the tip with the pad of his thumb. Thor seemed to jerk violently under his touch and Loki nearly lost his nerve and leapt to his feet but managed to remain where he was, his thumb frozen in place against the slit of Thor’s cock. He moved it again swirling it this time and then bringing his hand around the shaft again rotating his hand as he drew it up to the tip, his speed increasing as Thor started to thrust his hips upwards into his grasp. A dark voice whispered in the back of his head ‘that is how he wishes to thrust himself into you’, heat and terror crawled up the back of Loki’s neck at that thought so suddenly and unbidden that Loki feared for a moment he had in accidently slid a different skin over his form, one that heated so, but the hand around Thor was still blue so he took a deep calming breath and continued. 

Thor was making an obscene amount to noise, groaning, grunting and calling Loki’s name as if he was somewhere distinct and needed to be brought towards him at once. The pearly leaking increased and Loki wondered how it might taste on his tongue before a flash of shame and self-reproach caught him from doing anything so foolish. The pre-spend was making the slide of his hand over Thor’s sex easier and he was almost lost in his rhythm when Thor gave a loud yell and cum burst from his cock. Loki caught by surprise milked him through it with a stuttering grasp made more from surprise then in attempt to draw out the Odinson’s pleasure, the hot liquid thick and dripping on his hand. 

He pulled back when it was all done and chanced a look at Thor’s face. The Odinson’s cheeks were rushed red, sweat had tangled his hair to his forehead, and his eyes were shut with bliss as he struggled to regain his breath. The sight of it sent something running through Loki informing nerves he didn’t even know he had of things that could not possibly be real, that he couldn’t possibly feel over the nauseating nervousness that threatened to rip him open. He was about to turn away when a large grass stained hand found his jaw and dragged him down. Loki tensed but there was nothing he could do as Thor pulled him towards him and pressed their mouths together. His hands falling to the grass to hold his weight. Thor’s hand was fisted in his hair at the back of his head hard enough to tug at the roots, he forced the angle of their mouths and pressed open Loki’s mouth with his own running the wet muscle of his tongue over Loki’s bottom lip. Loki managed to hold back a moan that threatened against his lips, he would not have Thor know his inexperience at this, would not have him suspect his fears. He could feel Thor’s other hand on his bare stomach moving with an obvious goal in mind. Loki pulled away smirking with as much evil glee as he could, as if this had all been but a game he played for his own reasons.

“Not this time, Odinson.” He whispered against Thor’s lips as he pulled back entirely and got to his feet in one smooth motion wiping his sticky fingers in the grass. He quickly picked up the red cloak that still smelt slightly of the Odinson who had been its previous owner and wrapped it around himself. Thor stared up at him dumbly, his mouth agape, slightly reddened from their contact and Loki knew he had to draw away as soon as possible before his body gave into the temptation of the release Thor had promised with nothing more than the sneak of his hand over his stomach. He would not have the Odinson unravel him now. With a look of smugness that he wished he had even a ghost of Loki gazed at Thor. “I think I shall have a cup of tea and perhaps a light meal, feel free to join me once you are presentable.” He mocked and turned to walk away with nothing more, finally letting out the shuddering breath he had been holding when he was a safe distance away. Loki laid one hand on his chest to feel his pounding heart as images replayed in his mind but he pushed them down and shifted into the guise of perfect calm, ignoring the churn of wishing to empty his gut from fear and confusion. He had faith that he could make the show of the unaffected, or at least he had hope he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was ok...


	14. Part 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor gets some bad advice and Loki tries to do research

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry i was gone for such a while but about a month ago i watched supernatural for the first time and well I'm hooked so it stole most of my free time. I may have to write a dean/cas story soon as well, we shall see. Also i am going to do another chapter for my christmas avengers story which i will probably upload on wednesday. I hope this chapter is ok, oh also the terribly wrong advice that Fandal gives is him trying to be nice he just doesn't get it and after this one things are going to get rapidly more smutty so i apologise for that.

Part 14 Pride vs Desire

Thor’s whole body seemed to be strung up with tension worse than the night before a battle. After the surprising and euphoric moment in the gardens Loki had managed to avoid being with him in private. Each of the long hours had seemed endless as he was forced to dine next to the breath-taking creature he longed for and not touch him, not give back the gift that had been bestowed on him. Thor had managed to grit his teeth though one long night and now he searched the halls for a flash of blue against the gold. It was of little surprise to find Loki in the library, his cloak abandoned on a nearby chair, as he hunched over an open book musing over its scrawl. The jut of his spine was pushing against his skin, begging for Thor’s hand to trace it. 

“Whatever purpose brings you to break my study, I have not the time.” Loki’s voice muttered aloud making Thor jump, and he felt the fool for not announcing his arrival. Undeterred, Thor crossed to him and lay his arms around Loki’s shoulders, ignoring the petulant sigh that gusted from the Jotun’s mouth and nuzzled against the elegant neck with mouth and nose. 

“What horrific events keep you from my side?” He asked against Loki’s chilled skin, taking in the smell of him, mild yet crisp like new fallen rain in the air or grass in the winter. The thought of grass sent a pang of desire through his blood in memory of being stretched out on warm grass under the ministrations of Loki. “Tell me and I shall end it for you that I may claim back your time.” Thor swore to him with a grin. Loki sighed again, his body seemingly ignoring Thor’s presence as if this conversation carried on with the breadth of the room between them and not the sweet press of bodies. 

“There are things of greater magnitude than the whims of a prince.” Loki told him, his voice curt and orderly like a scholar. “I have but two days to ready myself for the council and one member gives me pause.” Loki admitted with irritation in the carriage of his voice. Thor leaned his chin on Loki’s shoulder to peer over at the pages covered in Loki’s coiled hand. Notes of scandal it seemed, as listed in full were the names of each member of the council and various accusations listed by each. 

“You mean to use these pieces of gossip against the council?” Thor asked wondering how Loki’s plans still managed to strike him as strange.

“I mean to have defence of myself for when they attack.” Loki corrected with a slight grin that faulted to a frown. “But there is one, a former warrior of the name Narfi...” Thor knew him well he was a respectable man with a reputation that spread out before him and added weight to his every word. “He gives me great pause, a sinister shudder at the merest thought of him.” Loki told Thor his eyes fixed on his book a list of families in Asgard.

“You have found some darkness to him?” Thor asked amazed at the idea.

“Nay, that is exactly the problem. There is nothing. No shadows, no secrets, no darkness.” Loki spat out the idea as if it was the worst sin a man might commit. “There is no man without vice, Thor. Mark my words this man is tainted worse than any other, and it is hidden so well even the dark whisperings fall quiet in his step.” Loki’s voice had fallen to a solemn muttering.

“Loki, you have no proof of this. Is it so out of possibility that this might be a goodly man?” Thor laughed. “Look on me, there is no vice to my name…” Loki interrupted him with a harsh bark of a laugh.

“You have vice, Odinson, and I know it well and fear it not for it is summoned with my name.” Loki told him with a smirk.

“You are not a vice, Loki.” Thor told him warmly, pressing his lips to where the Jotun’s heartbeat pulsed under his skin. 

“How passing pleasant your days must seem when even darkened skies might be seen as clear blue heavens.” Loki muttered with a disapproving shake of his head. “Now, is there purpose to your interruption of my study or have you succumbed to your own petty impulses?” 

“I thought I might return that most welcomed offering you gifted me with but yesterday.” Thor allowed one hand to drift down Loki’s bared chest, flicking over his collar and further down to brush over his nipples. Loki however caught his wandering hand in a sharp grip.

“It was no gift, Odinson, it was a trifling amusement and nothing more.” Loki’s voice was dismissive but Thor was not so easily shaken from a goal.

“Then…” He whispered right in Loki’s ear, his other hand trailing over the curve of Loki’s shoulder. “…when might I take ‘amusement’ with you?” Abruptly Loki rose from his seat and turned, a sneer twisting his features.

“Never, Odinson, it was a curiosity, one I have now satisfied. Now if you are here on some misguided assumption that I might meet and even reciprocate your carnal desires than know I am dealing in matters of such import that they turn your concerns to flecks of dust.” He rang a little bell that had been sat on the desk half hidden with books. Thor stood bewildered unable to utter a single word. A moment later a young women appeared, her frame more reserved than the usual buxom fair of Asgard, her hair a dark brown almost black and her eyes a weak green. She gave a polite nod of her head to Loki and a deep bow to Thor. “This young maiden is Minea, she has been provided to assist me.” Loki introduced dismissively before turning and rewarding the young lass’s duty with a small smile. “Minea, I have much to do and little time, I have not even a moment to occupy the Prince’s seemingly endless spare moments, perhaps you might journey to the herb garden and fetch me some leaves for some tea, and take the Odinson with you as protector and company that he might find ‘amusement’.” With a stern glance Loki turned back to his books. Thor stood to protest but the maid gripped his arm and started to lead him away towards the gardens already simpering at him at the honour it was to walk with the Prince of Asgard.  
~~~L/T~~~  
Thor tried very hard to not sulk, or whine or even grumble. Far in the distance the storm clouds threatened to roll inwards and meet his mood, but he kept them at bay. Near him Minea spoke of something or other her hands sifting through the various herbs, commenting absently on those that Loki preferred.

“How do you find serving him?” Thor asked her, watching as she frowned at the slightly browning tips of a mint leaf. 

“I find it pleasing enough.” She replied. “Even though he is…” She petered of in shame.

“Jotun?” Thor asked bluntly.

“Yes, your highness.” She admitted with guilt. “But despite his heritage he has been kind to me.” She smiled slightly and Thor felt his blood pump hot in his veins. His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, taking in her charms, the wild mess of dark hair, the pale colours of her flesh and the soft smooth lines of her body. He wondered for a moment how Loki looked at her, stuck in that library with nothing but dusty tomes and plain shelving, Thor wondered if his eyes might stray to more pleasing sights? How might it be if they were to reach for the same books, their fingers brushing against each other, cold blue grazing slender white fingers so different from his own calloused grasp. He was reminded instantly of the previous day and how every time he had reached for Loki there had been resistance. He stared down at his hands in horror turning them upwards to judge the clumsy instruments of war under his sight. “Your highness?” Thor looked up at see the maid, he could not even recall her name now, peering at him with concern. He gave her a smile to reassure her though ugly jealous thoughts of snapping her neck pushed at his mind. “You trusted Loki right from the start, did you not?” She asked her head tilting in enquiry. “Even though you knew what he was?”

“Indeed.” Thor managed to croak out and she stepped closer. 

“At first I thought it spoke well of Loki that he was Jotun but could contain the monster within him…but I think in truth it is you. Your faith that keeps his wickedness tethered.” Thor was unable to even reply at her ludicrous thoughts, how little she knew of Loki to think anyone might tether him. “You are truly a noble soul…and so handsome.” She lowered her eyes in false demurely and stepped even closer that he might smell the fusion of scents oiled to her skin, see the lustful glint in her pale green eyes. Thor frowned at her a moment before moving away.

“Excuse me, my lady, I have much to do. Tell your master I…just tell him I will have word with him later.”  
~~~L/T~~~  
Loki breathed out a sigh and tried to calm his mind. He forced himself to think on the council, on this strange individual who seemed unblemished. Loki told himself solemnly that this was his main concern, that his thoughts were utterly consumed by the idea of standing before the council and not what the Odinson was most probably doing with the young maid that he had hired into his service. Loki had picked a maid that bore some shallow resemblance to himself in his Aesir flesh, a guise he would be able to take no more. Thor had seemed to hold affection for it and would, no doubt, be moved to passion at a more suitable target for his desires. It was for the best. Loki was defiantly not thinking of how Thor had probably stretched her out next to the herb garden already, probably kissed down her neck and removed her clothes, or perhaps merely pushed aside those that would obstruct him in his rush for her flesh. Loki was defiantly not thinking how Thor might take his pleasure from her, the look on his face as he tipped over the apex of pleasure seared into Loki’s mind as if scrawled over his bones. These thoughts were, of course, far from his concern for he had the council to mind. He spent not a moment pondering if Thor would even take the time to think on Loki once his insane affections had been sated. 

Angry at himself Loki stood and paced gathering a book of Narfi’s family history searching for some disgrace to levy against him. His usual sources had given him nothing. It was disconcerting, it was a feet of impossibly that there had been no mistake of his lifetime, no black sheep of his bloodline cast out. It was as if they were of a charmed sort, and that rang out with all the telling of an unskilled lie to Loki, one he would unravel for his own sakes. It was this thought that made him fling his book down with enough force to send wavering puffs of dust out of its every page and not the idea that Minea still had not returned from her respite with the Odinson.

“My lord, your tea.” Loki nearly took fright at her voice immediately snarling inwardly that he had allowed his inner thoughts to deafen him to her arrival. Loki quickly repeated her words in his mind checking for any croak in her voice that might led one to believe she had recently had occasion to scream out in ecstasy, there was no such break. Loki turned to face her his eyes searching her for signs of dishevelling, but the only slight difference was a brush of mud on her sleeve, a stain more likely received when plucking at herbs and roots then being thrown to the ground in passion. 

“Very kind of you.” Loki muttered giving her a smile that would seem for all the world to be genuine. “How was your time with the Odinson?” He asked as he took the delicate cup from her hands and sipped gently at the sweetened mint. 

“It was…” She searched for the word a moment under Loki’s patient gaze. “…uneventful.” She settled on with a shrug. “I had thought he was a man of more passion, but it seems a reputation can be falsely earned.” She commented clearly a little irritated at the Odinson’s obvious lack of interest. “He did leave a message for you however, he bid me tell you he will speak with you later.” She told him before dutifully picking up Loki’s discarded books to put them back into order.  
~~~L/T~~~  
Thor sat and drank, it seemed a good enough course of action as any other. Thor was almost certain that it had been Loki who had sent Minea with him on the idea that he might enjoy her carnally. It vexed Thor, for he had thought their relationship was progressing rather well until that moment. 

“Drinking alone?” Fandal’s voice called out to him and the familiar comfort of his friend by his side soon settled to his left. “What drags the Odinson to such depths?” He asked his voice merry but underlay with concern.

“Loki.” Thor answered bluntly and took enough large gulp from his tankard. 

“Oh, now that seems a most disastrous plan for there is not mead enough in all of Asgard for you to turn to drink every time Loki has vexed you.” Fandal laughed and stole his tankard from under him downing a fair portion himself before settling it out of Thor’s reach. “Come, I listen better than a tankard and speak far sweeter.” Fandal nudged him to get him to confess his woes. “Come, did I not say that I think you two suited for each other? I am your champion in such matters.”

Thor stared hard at Fandal, it was true that his friend had shown his support but this was such a personal matter not just for himself but also Loki who would, no doubt, not want his deeds to be shared out as gossip. But it was also Loki that had thrown a wench at Thor in hope of brushing the Odinson off.

“There had been some progress…intimately.” Fandal’s brow raised up into his hairline as Thor spoke and his mouth tightened to keep in a smirk. “But it had been but one sided, Loki merely stole pleasure from me and then permitted no reciprocation. And then today he sends me off with his new assistant who makes it clear she would appreciate my interest, I cannot help but ponder if that was not Loki’s doing. I think whatever he hoped to gleam from our contact it did not meet his expectations.” Thor admitted, he had been over the experience in his mind several times already, admittedly a few times for the pure pleasure of the memory but as he had drank himself in ale and thought he had run his mind over the moment wondering if there had been some folly of his that might have led Loki to cool towards him. Fandal seemed to think for a moment before turning to Thor.

“Loki…he is a shifter is he not? His form has been as changing as the shapes of water?”

“Indeed.”

“Then he is likely to have taken pleasure in all manner of shapes, every race and creed, every beast and bird. Why I would wager that Loki has probably taken the pleasure of the wind or fire or ice itself. Perhaps he did not realise your limitations, perhaps you have not the form to rush his blood.”

“Are you saying I am too dull for him?” Thor asked devastated by the thought, of course Loki clever wicked Loki always thinking a fathoms ahead, would be unsatisfied by his meagre offerings.

“Perhaps, it is a sorrowful thought but it makes sense.” Thor reached over his friend to retrieve his tankard and drank until it was dry.

“Thor?” The Odinson turned to see Sif standing before him her hands on her hips. “Loki sent word to me that you might want my company.” Thor stood abruptly to his feet, anger surging him into action. With a few growled words Thor excused himself and made his way to Loki’s library.  
~~~L/T~~~  
Loki was stood on the tips of his bare feet gently placing a book back into its place when he was swung roughly around. Panic gripped him and he cursed his own weakness that this was the second time in a single day that he had been caught unawares. He stared up at his attacker and found himself trapped in the blue gaze of the Odinson.

“So…” He drawled out the word trying to push down the fear that had tighter hold of him than the warm grip around his forearms. “You have finally come to your senses and plan to end me, hmmm?” Loki smirked at him mockingly trying to ignore the way the shelf pressed hard lines into his back. Thor pulled back for just one moment before he crowed up into Loki’s space once more. The heat that came off the prince was enough to warm Loki’s skin and already he could feel moisture start to bead on his flesh.

“No, though perhaps I should. You sent Minea with the thought that she would try and seduce me.” Thor accused and Loki just smiled back. “You sent Sif as well. You think that I will be so easy led away from you?” Again Loki did not answer merely looked pointedly at the vice like grip on his arm and then blandly back to the Odinson. “Do you know what I say to this?” Thor asked and Loki rolled his eyes as if bored by Thor’s little display. The Odinson harshly jolted him, slamming him back against the bookcase again and making him hiss in anger and pain. “I say you may send every maiden in all the realms to me and I will give them no more than a glance and do you wish to know why?” Loki shook his head not particularly wanting to be knocked against the bookcase again. “There is no sight more pleasing to me eyes than you. There is no sound sweeter to my ears than your voice. There is no feeling that makes my blood rush as the touch of your skin.” Thor’s thumb moved in its place around Loki’s arm rolling in smooth circles pushing just the slightest bit more pressure against the raised ridge it found there. Loki had to fight everything not to make a sound to lock his jaw tight. 

“Are you quite done?” He asked stiffly once he was composed trying to meet that intense blue stare without revealing himself, the sweat on his skin making the little innocuously motions of Thor’s thumb easier and Loki tired not to think how easily they might become something more intimate. 

“Nay, there is more I must tell you.” Thor told him looking uncomfortable for the first time. “I know that you have taken many shapes and no doubt taken a great many pleasures…” Loki frowned at him in confusion sometimes he had no idea what drove the Odinson to his lunacy. “…but I ask that you give me opportunity to try and please you before you dismiss me.” It took Loki a moment to process what had been said.

“You are the biggest idiot I have ever met.” Loki told Thor, his usual affection for the Odinson’s foolishness vanished and his voice was sharp and biting. “Is this what you think of me? That I would use my art, my craft that took me years of study to perfect, for such base acts? Is this what you think I have done? That I would make myself a mare for any stallion’s ardour? That I would give myself and take of beasts?” Loki snarled at Thor trying to wrench himself free, he could escape but it would mean using his power and he would hurt the Odinson, as much as he would revel in giving him pain at that moment, the blood spell he had woven on Thor when he had returned to Asgard the second time would prevent him from it. “Just because you are led by the foolish impulse to rut does not mean that I am cursed with the same affliction.” Thor seemed lost as he looked back but his grip didn’t falter.

“I…I merely thought…I…I am sorry, Loki. Of course you would not do such things.” He stammered his apologies the flush of shame lighting his cheeks. “Then what is it that keeps you from allowing me to please you?” Thor asked gently his head tilted almost as if he was drawing in to kiss Loki. “You are such a pretty thing Loki, no doubt in Jottenheim there were throngs of those who sought your pleasure, what did they have that I lack?”

“A pretty thing? Throngs? What bedevilled thoughts are taken over your mind. I am no less a monster in Jottenheim than in Asgard. There were none who sought my pleasure.” As soon as the words left Loki’s lips he caught his mistake. The Odinson had become like a fever to him stripping him of reason and tact. He moved to squirm free the irritatingly welcoming feeling of Thor’s breath on his neck making it hard to think. The memory of that flesh under his hands, of manipulating the prince of Asgard into pleasure rippled in his memory with a shiver and Thor’s eyes were bright with sin when he chanced a look at them. 

“None.” Thor echoed. “Never has another brought you to pleasure.” He stated his voice mingled lust and wonder. “I would be the first, if you would let me.” He whispered, his voice caving fully into the rougher darker side of its inflections. His mouth dipped down and pressed to Loki’s, pushing his lips open and Loki wanted it, wanted Thor to touch him, kiss him, and more places than just his mouth, he wanted to shake and shiver and be made to plea and call out stuttering with nothing but Thor’s name on his lips. Loki wanted it all. Thor pulled back and looked at Loki obviously taking some sign of agreement in something on Loki’s face from the way he smiled and moved to steal his lips again. Pathetically Loki lifted up to meet him halfway and he struggled against the grip on his arms not to escape but to move his hands to Thor’s hair and tangle them to keep those sweet lips against his and never allow him to pull away. 

“Master!” Minea voice calling to him brought Loki back to himself and he pulled away and started to scramble. Thor released him reluctantly and Loki started to smooth out what little clothing he had. Loki cleared his throat and moved out of the rows of shelving a pointed look thrown to Thor demanding that he remain out of sight. 

“Yes, my lady?” Loki asked smoothing back his hair just in case.

“I have been bid to tell you that the council meets at noon on the morrow.” She told him a slight look of anxiety on her face, clearly she worried how her master would fair, her own position dictated on Loki’s successes. Loki had almost forgotten there even was a council to hold meetings and inwardly berated himself for allowing himself to forget who he was. 

“Thank you, please send for the minuets of the last years’ worth of meetings for me.” Loki demanded with as much authority as he could muster. She nodded and hurried away. Thor strode out from his place in hiding a smug look on his face, he moved towards Loki but the Jotun took a step back. “I really must prepare for this meeting.” He told him not looking in his eyes. “This is of importance.” He claimed forcing his head up high. Thor seemed torn for a moment and Loki feared he would not take his word and instead push him against the desk and kiss him again, he was also a little afraid that he wouldn’t. Thor walked steadily towards him and took one of Loki’s hands in his own and brought it to his lips. Thor had kissed Loki’s hand before but never after such a passionate display and now Loki could not help but stare as his lips touched the blue of his skin.

“I shall leave you to your study, my beloved.” Thor whispered happily. “I shall have to content myself with nothing but thoughts of you to keep me warm this night.” Loki controlled the shiver that wanted to spread out over him at the thought and merely smiled politely as Thor left. 

Loki had never felt such shame, he had allowed the Odinson to manipulate him, to bend him into his own crazed affections. Loki was a creature of thought, of intellect he did not succumb to the trivial wants of the flesh. Loki stood in his library surrounded on every side with tomes bursting full of knowledge this was where he belonged. He swore to himself there that he would no longer allow the Odinson to infect him with his misguided passions. He was Loki a creature of danger and wit, not some panting maid. With his mind made up Loki returned to his books and at no point in that evening did he think of Thor alone in his chambers taking pleasure in thoughts of Loki. And if he did he would never admit it.


	15. A meeting of mind and body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki's first meeting with the council

Part 15 A meeting of mind and body

Loki was nervous and for once he couldn’t turn to the Odinson to boost his position. The Odinson may have been nothing more than a snivelling fool of less use in politics than the leaks of a damp sponge, but his name and title went further than Loki’s cunning and grace ever could at making a first impression. But the Odinson was dangerous, the torrid emotions that he had raised in Loki were affecting him, thoughts of carnal joinings had plagued his sleep and made a slave of his traitorous body. These feelings were weakening him, turning him into a creature of base instinct, of lust. Loki knew of lust had watched in pity as his brothers lost their lives to it, had stared as good men, wise and highly praised, gambled their very position for a few fleeting moments of sweat. Loki was no such man. And so he had turned to his assistant to offer up her assessment before the meeting. Loki felt a little on edge as she cast her insipid green eyes over him, washed out pale things that half turned his stomach. Gingerly she reached for the clasp that held his cloak fixed to his right shoulder, the one that Thor had presented to him and with which Loki had crafted his position with. It seemed Loki was not permitted a moments peace without thoughts of the Odinson seeping into his mind.

“Perhaps this should be ornament enough?” She offered and Loki could not help the dark scoff that exhaled from his throat. The girl knew nothing. Loki had adorned himself with more than he had ever before, but it was more than just shimmering gold and silver that decked his skin. “Is not all this rather vulgar?” She asked her hand gesturing to his person. Loki sighed and pushed her hand away.

“Foolish child to see nothing but trinkets. These horns I wear they were won in saving of the Odinson’s life. These rings were gifted to me after the slaying of a vicious gang of Fire giants, from this necklace hangs the smallest bone of a dragon, and this, this is the most telling of all, for this is the crest of my land, the land I left to enter the halls of Asgard. You see nothing but finery, and some of ill taste I will grant, but they will see the markings of a man who has seen far outside the limits of his realm and been welcomed to the feet of kings in each.” Loki shook his head at her. “Now be of use or be gone. My cloak, does it sit straight?”

“Indeed, my lord.” She mumbled, awe and revulsion warring on her face for a moment before she was interrupted by a booming knock at the door. Loki sighed once more.

“Let in the Odinson.” He instructed her causing a deep set frown to set her age astray by a few years.

“How do you know it is he?” She asked crossing the room.

“No other man can sound as if he seeks to quake an entire room just by asking entreatment.” Loki muttered dismissively and cast himself down into a chair casually. He was of a much more comfortable temperature in his loin cloth but he had been rather taken with the manner in which he could cast his limbs splayed out over any seat without fear of shaming himself in his Asgardian garb. 

“The Odinson seeks you.” Minea told him standing by the open door.

“And if I had sent for him that would be a joy.” Loki called making sure his voice carried loud enough to reach the ears of the Prince. “But as it is I have no need of him.”

“Loki.” Thor, as Loki has suspected he might, took no heed to his dismissal and strode into the room. It seemed no small amount of claiming a room or chamber ‘Loki’s’ could steal from the Prince his sense of entitlement. “I had thought I would walk with you to the meeting.” Loki grinned at the serious determination on Thor’s face and met it with a callous grin.

“Truly? And why is that? Do you think me to suffer somehow, that my legs will not hold to the chamber without assistance? Or perhaps you fear my mind has become most muddled and will forget myself in the hallways until I spend my last breaths in search of rooms I no longer can recall? Or maybe you have heard of some secret plot to spill my life-blood, if so please name the blade and I will end this before it begins.”

“It is none of these.” Thor spoke between his teeth casting a look back to Minea who watched with avid interest.

“Then name your mission.”

“Simply to walk with you a while.” Thor confessed and Loki raised one eyebrow in contempt. 

“Simply to walk with me a while? Such petty wants for such a petty man. I shall make a concession with you, Odinson. I will walk with you to the meeting if you will agree to any condition I name.” Loki smirked, evil in his eyes.

“Anything you wish I shall…” Thor started to swear.

“It would be wise to hear what you are binding yourself to first, Odinson.” Loki cast out a friendly warning. 

“Fine, name your term that I might swear to it.” Thor’s blue eyes hadn’t left Loki and despite himself Loki could not help but note how well they turned with rage, how bright indignation lit them like a fire. 

“You may escort me to the meeting if once we arrive you slaughter every member of the council.” Loki challenged.

“Loki! You cannot ask this! You cannot even want this! This is an act of butchery.”

“I give nothing but an ultimatum, I do not move your hand to violence, the choice is ever yours.” Loki grinned at him flashing his teeth like the wicked thing he was. 

“Fine, I will not stand here and endure you forcing me away, you have your solitude in this. Only I ask of you to seek me out once you are done, I swear to press nothing on you other than my company.”

“I will consider it.” Loki agreed magnanimously making sure to keep his voice light and bored.   
~~~L/T~~~  
Loki was used to being judged, had been judged his entire life, and much of it found lacking. But this was new to him. In many respects he had earned his seat at the table, had earned it when he counselled the Odinson, but it was not a glory he would have sought. These men sat, not to judge the morality of his ideas, but their use, to rip apart his schemes and weight the metal of his intellect. They were in many ways, almost his equals. Some of them had ended wars with deals struck with more force than a death blow out on the fields, some of them had sent other realms to their knees in cowardice, and some had spent every moment of their lives in untainted glory. It was such a fellow that stared at him now, and Loki knew to fear him. 

Narfi was not a large man or one of great girth, he was plain in a way that spoke of danger to Loki. His eyes were blue and tinted with the beginnings of failing eyesight that the sharp gleam of his stare negated as a falsehood, his nose was perhaps a little prominent in his face being that it was broken slightly at the bridge barely enough to note a man from his fellows but it was something. His hair was receding backwards but it gave an air of wisdom and not of decrepit age and he dressed in the colours of the field, the browns and green hues, accented by the most modest of golden clasps, these ornaments were newly fixed to the tunic and sat stiffly threatening to unlatch from each other with his every move. The rest were naught but men, dignified but not above reproach. He had scandal on each of them if needed, but this one caused him grief and worry. It would be those faltering eyes that would light his nightmares far worse than the rotting breath of a dragon ghosting over his face. 

“We have all read your proposals, Laufeyson.” The grandmaster Jorolv spoke, his voice a deep thrum to the room, a scholars voice. 

“Please.” Loki lounged in his chair the picture of dismissal and crude manners. “Call me Loki, my father won a lifetime of shame from me I think that is enough for any man.” Loki grinned tittering slightly at himself. 

“Indeed.” Came the disapproving reply. “So, Loki…” His name was hissed like the name of some poison. “…we are in agreement that there is some merit to much of it.” Loki lifted up his head from where it had rested on his folded hands to look up in interest. “But there is some disagreement as to their suitability for Asgard, you will understand.” He cast a look to Narfi who had obviously been the voice of disapproval. 

“And why is that?” Loki asked as if he had no idea.

“Because.” Finally Narfi spoke, and he even had enough grace to not do so from his own mouth. A young member of the council, his face turned to red in indignity spat out over the table, his eyes trailing unconsciously to the dignified master seeking approval for his words, no doubt led to anger by a guiding hand. “Asgard is not the same vile devil-spewing mess of Jottunheim.” If he thought to anger Loki by insulting the land of his birth than he clearly had not looked into Loki very carefully.

“Is this not Jottenheim?” Loki asked his voice dripping with sarcasm and contempt. “I did wonder over the suspicious, and frankly worrying, lack of ice.” Loki smiled at him crookedly meeting Narfi’s eyes and issuing a challenge, ignoring the speaker who seemed to pant in rage. The look that came back was so bladed that Loki thought for a moment that he would draw blood from it, even before the table of elders. 

“Yes, well…Asgard is watched by the other realms, it would harm our reputation to seem to use underhanded means.” The grandmaster broke through their internal battle. 

“Is that all you have issue with?” Loki asked and there was a slightly shamed murmur of agreement. “Well then that is easy to fix, for, from the correct angle, the darkest of deeds can look holy.” Loki told them with a smile. The grandmaster eyed him with suspicion but seemed willing to give him a chance. Loki took the opportunity to lay some of his cards upon the table. “Not that it matters, Odin will sleep soon and Thor will take the crown. That boy is rather reckless is he not? Why I bet he would even dare to disband the whole host of you and lay the responsibility of the council at my feet.” He cast his threat with a grin. “Which is something that none of us want of course.” After that things progressed much better, Loki’s thoughts were heard, if not abided, by all accept one. Narfi seemed to find fair and just reason to ignore each and every one of Loki’s thoughts, binding them up with legality, or simply stalling them for the future when their use would have faded to dust. Loki was close to insanity, he vowed to himself to find some secret, some chink in the brazen armour of the man. But it appeared this would not be the day he found it. He had just resided himself to abject failure and half sought to drown his on ineptitude in the foolishness of drink, as young men were oft want to do, when his eyes caught sight of something all at once strange and familiar. 

Loki had never thought much on the gift of luck, of coincidence and happy chance that graced men with its bounty. Such fickle things were as quick to take as they were to give but this could nothing be but some divine casting of the stars. As Narfi leant forward in his chair to pull the papers, the ones that were littered with rejections to Loki’s every consideration, his tunic pressed upon the table. The wood touched against the fabric and pushed the little golden clasp from its hole and opened the tunic but a tiny jot. But it was enough for Loki to catch the tiniest glimmer of a well-known sight, though not one he had thought to see in Asgard for all his eternal days. Quickly he averted his eyes and allowed the man to stroll in victory from the room. Loki would let him have a day, perhaps two to think he had beaten Loki, but it was over. He had found it, he had found what set the man to perfection, and soon he would use it to destroy him. A fire beat inside him, seemingly fanned with each thump of his heart and his elated feet to move him to the one place he feared to tread of late. His thoughts racing full of thankful victory and not of his own mind he brayed on a door, taking no consideration to that shameful sight of eagerness he must have made to any passing servant and certainly not to the confused face of the Odinson as the door opened.  
~~~L/T~~~  
Thor had not expected Loki to seek him out, certainly not so soon. He had made his feelings perfectly clear earlier in the day and Thor had assumed that he would torment Thor with his absence for at least a few days. No sight could have pleased Thor more though as the Jotun stood before him. Loki spared nothing on greetings and instead pushed his way into the room forcing Thor to step back with him until Thor’s legs made soft contact with the edge of his bed and the little grip of pressure made him sit. Loki crowded even closer, one leg bent up into the bed, his knee between Thor’s spread thighs, sending an unwanted heat over his body. 

“You…you are back from the meeting?” Thor asked, his eyes making resolved contact with the red pupils before him and not dipping down to the bared and lithe chest so tantalizingly close. 

“Indeed.” If Loki noticed his discomfort he made no show of it and instead started to strip himself of his trophies, the ring, the bone, even his helm and cloak fell away, not that Thor needed any reminder of Loki’s many victories. 

“And I trust it went well?” Thor almost cringed at the crack in his voice, it seemed as if Loki had stolen all the moisture from the air an left his mouth and throat heavy and dry. Slightly cold hands snaked up to his face, sliding through the hair of his beard before clasping tightly at either side of his face and forcing Thor to stare directly into Loki’s smirking features.

“Oh it went most well.” Loki’s voice came out with the traitors hiss of a serpent, barely like a man it was so filled with dark intent. Thor could not help but swallow against nothing as he was forced to look on. “I have found my mark and it is a darkness that I know well.” Some furnace seemed to light behind Loki’s red vision, something that spoke of such misdeeds that should send a revulsion through his spine but instead his blood answered that with its own heat and warmed under it until his skin was alive with the want bubbling in his veins. Until his world comprised of nothing than Loki’s sharp white teeth, the cerulean colour of his skin and those heated red eyes boring down into him. “I will shed his blood, and his power will crumble under my own.” Loki swore and Thor could help himself no longer, with a low growl he pulled Loki to him capturing his lips in his own. Loki tasted of more than usual, the spiced wine he had no doubt drank at the meeting, the hollow mint, that was well known, but now under it all the metallic hints of violence, smoky and toxic under his tongue. Thor should have pulled away, instead he gripped tighter and sought out more. And Loki let him. Even let out a soft moan of approval when Thor bit into his bottom lip with the lightest of pressure, gave no complaint as he was unceremoniously shoved around so that Thor might crouch above him, Loki strewn over Thor’s bed like a possession. 

“I would have you.” Thor whispered into his neck, lapping at the pulse he found there. A wild laugh bounced against his mouth and then strong hands fisted into his hair and dragged him up and away that he might meet the lust blown pupils of the creature under him. 

“I am no ones to have.” Loki reminded him with a look of savagery to him. Thor faltered for a moment as there was nothing of rejection in the way Loki still laid out under him, their hips dangerously close to pressing against each other. 

“Let me bring you pleasure.” Thor practically begged.

“Nay.” Loki told him, a smirk on his features and he slide half from under Thor, his body caressing against at much of Thor’s as he could as he wormed his way to escape. “This is my victory, Odinson.” He reminded him, one hand drifting from his hair to slide down his neck with a firm line. “You will not steal it from me with a few clumsy touches. This is mine to have and you will allow me everything.” Loki told him, his breath hot against his cheek.

“I give my trust to you.” Thor told him leaning back in in the hope that Loki would allow him at least one more kiss. A sinister laugh separated their lips as Loki chuckled at him.

“And that is what shall be carved upon your tomb, Odinson, ‘he gave his trust to Loki’.” Slowly Loki reversed them until Thor was under him and then he purposefully ground their hips together. Thor gave a shuddering gasp as their arousals met before looking up at Loki’s unaffected gaze.

“But until that day what a life I shall have.” Thor conceded and allowed Loki to set his pace, teasingly slow but achingly gratifying every time they rubbed at each other. Thor wanted to dare to ask for Loki to remove his loincloth or at least allow Thor to pull himself from his hose, but Loki was smirking down at him and the slightest folly would take away the rolling pleasure pushed up against him from Loki. Thor simply reached one hand into the black strands of hair at the back of Loki’s head and pulled him in close, tight and pressed their lips together. Loki’s hips pressed against his own harder and he risked a slight movement of his own, pushing back into that warm pleasure. Loki said nothing, but he pulled back from the kiss to breath in a shuddered gasp and Thor took that as a good sign. He moved his hips again and this time Loki broke just a little, a small hiss of his pleasure ghosting over his lips that curled back slightly as he fought the feeling. It was almost too much and Thor had to ground himself to not seek out more than he knew Loki was willing to give him. Loki’s red eyes lifted to meet him, shocked and wide, seemingly lost for a moment, before he flung himself to his feet and straightened out his clothing, smoothing down his hair still wild from the messy caress of Thor’s fingers. 

“I have to go.” He panted the words out and Thor reached out for him, one hand gripping around one of Loki’s slender wrists the other trailing down the obvious line of his arousal through the white folds of his loincloth.

“You cannot go like this.” Thor reminded him and Loki spat out a little noise of reluctant agreement. Thor went to push his hand into the white cloth before him but Loki glared at him backing away.

“I have told you, I am not yours to take.” Loki reminded him, and Thor found it hard to fathom how Loki could deny himself what his body so obviously craved, he almost envied the control of the body before him, chest heaving with effort, tendons popping, making their own hatched patterns over the raised markings of his skin and the sheen of perspiration wetting his flesh. 

“I take nothing.” Thor spoke calmly ignoring the own thrum of arousal making a steady heartbeat in his groin, crying out for its own pleasure. He pulled Loki back towards him and this time Loki came a cautious look on his face as if he half expected some violence met out against him. Thor sat at the edge of his bed with Loki stood between his legs; towering over him in standing. Thor leant forward and flicked his tongue over blue skin catching a drop of sweat running in a hasty race down his torso. Loki hissed again and his hands fisted into Thor’s hair, sharply dragging his mouth away from his skin, his red eyes serving up a thousand dark warnings. Thor stole one blue hand from its place snagged tight in his hair and pulled it down to his own crotch pressing the slender hand down on his arousal, his hips shifting at the pressure. This seemed to amuse Loki if the slight glimmer of light in his eyes was any indication and Thor felt emboldened enough to continue. Gently he slid the hand under the waist of his hose and wrapped those blue digits around his aching cock. Loki’s hand was cool but never cold, a welcome relief to the heat that threatened to burn him from the inside out if he could not relieve the tension clawing at his body.

Slowly Loki’s hand started to move, sliding up and down his arousal making him grunt with pleasure. He dared to look at him and found curious red eyes staring straight at where his blue hand disappeared into the cloth of Thor’s hose, taking detached interest in proceedings. This was not what Thor wanted, he wanted the Loki of a moment ago, the creature that had pressed up tight against him seeking out its own pleasers through his flesh. Gently Thor laid his hand at Loki’s navel unsure how far he could proceed, his own pleasure distracted him coiling around his gut and his hips stuttered forward into Loki’s grasp. “Please.” He begged and Loki’s lips parted at the word and his eyes lost themselves a little to black, Loki, however, said nothing. Thor moved his hand down into Loki’s clothing and met with a rigid length. He wanted to pull away that white cloth and stare at Loki, he had little doubt that every inch of him was beautiful, the little raised markings worked their way around his skin even in such an intimate place and he wanted to trace them with his hands, his eyes, his tongue. Loki’s grip tightened around him, his thumb playing under the head of his cock and he shuddered uncontrollably. His mouth started to work without him and he wondered for one moment if this were some spell that Loki weaved into him. His words came uncoordinated and half incoherent, half written fantasies about what he wanted to do to Loki, what he wished Loki to do to him, a thousand mumbled desires, all the while his hand slide up and down Loki’s own sex.

He tried to keep his eyes on Loki searching in desperation for some sign of his enjoyment but finding little after a little while though it was too much and his head started to bow forward as the pressure building within him increased, the muscles of his stomach tightened trying to stave off completion for just one more moment of bliss. It was hopeless to try forever and when Loki pressed down on the slit with his thumb, slick with his own secretions of arousal, he gasped and came uncouthly over Loki’s hand. He tried to get his breath back from its stuttering failures and almost missed Loki clutching at his back his body tense in front of him, pulling so tight against Thor that he pushed the top of Thor’s head against his chest as he then he shuddered and the most breathtakingly sound came from his lips. A groan, utterly true and raw, breaking at the end to a pained whimper and Thor wished he could turn his head and see the look painted over his beloved’s face but he contented himself with watching the last twitches of muscle before him. After a while Loki pulled back his face serious and blank as he took a step away, his eyes slightly unnerved by something and cast over Thor as if searching for some sign of trickery, Thor almost laughed at the idea that he might even attempt to trick Loki. Loki straightened himself up and without so much as a word turned to leave. Thor caught his wrist once more; the skin under his grip still trembled slightly. 

“Come back to bed.” Thor begged, unashamed at the desperation in his voice. Loki looked at him for a long time his silence like a barrier between them hiding Loki’s thoughts from him.

“Nay.” Loki said at last. “I have much to do.” He excused and Thor pulled himself up from his bed, his legs weakened from pleasure whining at him for the movement.

“At least let us part with a kiss.” He cupped Loki’s jaw and pulled his head towards his own. Loki resisted for a moment before allowing the gesture, his lips tight and firmly pressed together as Thor kissed him. “I shall see you on the morrow?” Thor asked hopefully.

“Nay, or have you forgotten I have blood to spill.” Loki reminded him his voice already turned to his cold amused tones.

“I take it you found out what has kept Nerfi untainted?” Thor asked desperate for one more greedy moment with Loki. 

“Indeed.” Loki smiled his most secretive of grins and Thor knew if he pressed for more answers he would get little more than evasion, but with Loki even such games were rewarding.

“And? How does he do it?” Thor asked and Loki’s eyes glittered with mischief. 

“There is a darkness that walks with us all, sometimes before us sometimes behind and no matter how large or fearsome always crawling at your feet. Our friend has found a way to break that tether and set out his darkness as a creature to do harm.” Loki told him mysteriously already moving towards the door.

“This is a bad thing he does?” Thor asked and Loki nodded sagely. “Then you will end it.” Loki arched his eyebrow at the slight command in Thor’s voice but his face showed only amusement as he swung his red cloak over his body and swished it around himself dramatically laying his hand on his breast.

“But of course, is that not what I do?” Loki asked and without waiting for a reply left, the door making the slightest of noises as it slid closed. Thor sighed to himself and laid out over his bed trying to find some evidence to sight that this evening had been more than the fevered fantasy of his obsessed mind. But there was none. Thor resigned himself to the bathes to clear away the evidence of his own enjoyment, wishing he had but one scant offering to prove that Loki had been its source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time a little violence and how Loki feels about what just happened plus I get to write another of Loki's long speeches that i do enjoy writting, also i may have to up the rating just a little, if not next time then the one after that.


	16. Part 16 Shadow puppets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki faces his foe and the body plan a journey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I have been away so long, major writers block. Hopefully I will have the next chapter up tomorrow all things allowing as it is already half written. I wanted to include it in this one but it started to get too long which does mean that there is no umm...intimate scenes in this one but there shall be some in the next chapter, if I remember how to write a blowjob that is! Again sorry for the delay hopefully things will pick up again especially as i actually know how this is ending now. Oh on a totally unrelated note (except that it kept me from posting this a few hours ago) if you have helix piercings and decide to get small segmented rings get a professional to put them in and save yourself hours of fiddly annoyance!

Part 16 Shadow Puppets

Loki began, as he was often want to do, with a lie. A lie told with more surety than if questioned if the sun shone in the day. 

“Did you know that in Jottenheim we worship shadows?” He asked loftily, his back stiff with delightful wickedness and he felt more himself than he had for the last few days. None of the bone-weary creeks that should have afflicted him nagged at his mind. A lifetime of standing off to the side of his father’s throne as he watched the prideful tyrant rule over their realm had taught his muscles to avoid the lock and ache of utter stillness. It was a powerful technique to always appeared as if one had been waiting for their intended victim but a moment as if knowing when they might next frequent a room, and be seen as a figure of such stoic stillness that it seemed he was carved from the very walls of the room.

It had, unfortunately, been a slightly harder task that usual being that every time his mind was given more than a breath to relax it strayed errantly to Thor. Unwanted reminders of two days previous swayed through his thoughts with the bludgeoning swing of a mace. Thor’s skin slick with sweat pressed to his own, the heady smell that seemed to reach out from the Odinson’s body like a snare pulling him in. Those roughened hands, made for the heavy swipe and slash of his weapon put to such soft task against Loki’s skin. It was enough to send clawing heat between his traitorous flesh and the worn cloth of his cloak. The cloak of the Odinson himself, emboldened red with pre-emptive victory, like a crest of ownership wrapped around his body. As if Loki held any doubt over whom it was he belonged to. 

“Quit my chambers immediately.” The rough spiteful voice of his adversary was a steadying force on his soul. Loki did so like his little scuffles and nothing made him feel more himself than staring down his foe. For the moment the prickling of anticipation eclipsed the petty yearnings of his flesh, and for now a slow menacing smirk covered his face, his lips curling upwards and exposing the bright sharp fangs that sat underneath. The quick calm creature of the court was replaced by the monster, and that was a guise Loki wore with great effect. “I should set the guards upon you, run you through like the beast you are.” Narfi spat at him with such delicious hate in his eyes as if Loki had to do no more to sin than occupy his own flesh. Which was probably true. 

“Should, but won’t.” Loki breathed back the condescending tone in Narfi’s voice sending a spark of joy through him, he did so love it when others thought that they might speak to him in such a manner. Slowly, and with great grace, he moved his hand nearer to the small flickering candle that he had brought into the room. The rest was clothed in darkness marking one wall with a stage built of mild yellow light. Loki’s motions sent an echo of his slender digits over the wall, large and stretched enough to make him one of his own kin in form as well as name, for once matching them in size if in nothing more than a display distorted against a wall. Narfi started to speak, hurried panic words that meant little to the Jotun, his play had just begun and audience participation was not yet required. The pitiful sounds were meaningless enough for Loki to sigh through them and continue as if the councillor had never drawn breath. “As I said, the Jotun worship shadows.” The lie was steady on his tongue, for shadows were a pleasing enough thing to worship and not out of the realm of the possible, and Loki believed that all faiths had at one time or another started as a lie on a wise man’s tongue. “Why there is even a room in the grand palace named the court of shadows. The ice has been shaped just so that went a light is hung with proper care a man might stand in its centre and all around him would his shadow be cast in every shape and size, every angle and slant of the body laid out on the floor.” With a skilled melding of his digits he made his hand take the shape of a bird trailing over the wall as if it were empty sky and then a dragon, next a stag, his craft adding embellishments to the dexterous nature of his hands, tracing over his designs until they walked without his motion and he could step aside and let his creations battle without him, tearing each other to part in lazy violence, in places, leaving room for new darker more grotesque figures to rise up to the light. “It was once used by priests to talk with the facets of their souls.” Jottenheim had never had a priest, there was nothing to worship but ice and kings, neither of which cared much for the pious moaning of the faithful. “Later is was used as a form of torment, that a man might be forced to sit and stare into the shapes of his misdeeds. The screams were loud enough to startle the beasts of the wilderness make them quit the boundary of the palace like mice fleeing a drowning vessel. And all the unhappy souls trapped within the palace, from prince to maid, curled into themselves to hide from the screams, and shield away their own guilt.” Loki turned and stared at Narfi, grinning again, knowing how much the devil he must look with the candle digging shallow groves into his sharp features. “A man can turn away from a mirror never to see himself, he might even look deep into his reflection and see nothing but the prideful curl of his lips, the handsome shape of his brow, but a shadow walks our paths with us, inescapable and all seeing, the perfect spectre to manifest our guilt.” Loki took up the candle in his hand destroying his little scene with an uneventful apocalypse of darkness and cast the light over Narfi, his gaze pointed down to his feet where there was nothing but the soft touch of brown leather boots to cold stone slates. No dark figure repeated the councillors shape on the floor and when Loki turned his gaze back up to him his eyes were fixed, he gave no denial of himself, not now.

“How very clever you must think you are.” Narfi asked him his hand reaching for something at his throat, the little bottle with a silver stopper. Loki glared him down and shook his head in warning and Narfi’s face tightened slightly at being caught out. “Jottenheim must have taught you well, for there must be little to learn on your back with your legs gaped wide for the Prince’s pleasure.” Loki raised one eyebrow at the suggestion. “Or does he take you like the beast you are, your face buried in ground you crawled from?”

“At least I have the decency to please my master.” Loki grinned at him watching as his face twitched with anger. 

“I am my own master.” He barked back, spittle flicking from his mouth in his rage, his hand clenched over the little casket and Loki inwardly balked at the thought of the bottle cracking, the last thing he wanted was to have to end this so soon, but it seemed the councillor hurried towards his death with a childish eagerness. 

“Let us not quibble such obvious truths, you’re someone’s pet and I want to know who’s.” Loki let the darkness into his voice. “Some time ago I came across a mage with little skill but taught a spell of such power it nearly took the Odinson from his life. And now I happen upon you, right in the heart of Asgard. Holding captive a shadow is no easy feat. In all my study I have come upon but a scrap who have managed the trick, and by the unblemished way in which you have stepped to your high rank I trust you have sent it out in your service to do what would cover your own hands with filth. That is quite a feat from one I sense little energy in. What I want to know is whose bitch are you.” Loki glared him down.

“I am no one’s pet, this power I have it was a gift from one who sensed my greatness going to waste.” He claimed and Loki tried not to roll his eyes. It was a vanity he despised in men and his patience was starting to fade. “But there is the problem of what we do with you now. The Prince would no doubt miss your presence but it would not take him long to find another to warm his bed.” Loki tried to not allow such thoughts to distract him but the idea of Thor’s bed was a tempting one indeed, he had thought that his little victories were pleasing enough to sway him from his desires, it seemed he was wrong. “Your death will be little mourned monster, I almost wish I could take credit for it. But as you might have guessed I am not much drawn to idea of violence myself.” With a flick of his wrist Narfi pulled the stopper from the bottle around his neck and from it came a long thick trail of black, dark and eagerly pushing itself out of the small bottle. Loki had once owned a similar bottle, years ago when his skill was young. Such casks trapped magical energy of all different kinds, usually to serve as slaves, Loki found it distasteful he knew the horror of servitude all too well to keep another in its thrall. Besides a wise man could bend another to his bidding with a soft word or calm suggestion, and have them walk from their deeds as if it was their own mind that lead them to such acts, there was little need for Loki to break others in such a vulgar fashion. The shadow stood on sure footing before him, it’s shape more matched to Loki’s tall slender frame than that of its master, the edges blurring as the light flickered through it. “Have you any words to grace your death with?” The man asked wickedly his face glowing with vulgar bloodlust. Loki laughed merrily.

“Why, on my death bed I shall have enough words to tire the reaper from his duty. Such is my love for my own tones I shall ring them through my death and cast them into stone that they might sing for all time. Or perhaps I shall teach the birds my sounds that every mourning the day might be greeted with trilling repetition of my words. Or pour them to the tread of feet on grass so everyman walks the incessant beats of my dying croak. Or perhaps I will make the stars shine my thoughts down upon you all, scrawling my demands upon the sky above. Such is the destiny of my dying speech…you cannot expect me to give them to one such as you.” 

“No matter, your silence will please me more.” Narfi bit back seemingly bewildered by Loki’s casual attitude, no doubt used to his prey reduced to quivering masses by this point. But Loki just stood his hips slung down to one side with his usual grace and ran one hand through his hair, pushing it back with one blue hand. “Why do you stand so still?” He demanded angrily, the hazy edges of his shadow flaring with his rage. “Does a pathetic beast such as yourself know too little to even care for its own mortality? Are you too much a devil to feel fear?”

“Fear? No, I know of fear. I know a great more about fear than you could know. I have seen things…” Loki twisted his hand and the shadow blurred as if a brand sliced its ways through its centre for a moment quick enough to be a trick of the light. “…things that would make you quiver, things that would turn your dreaming into torture. And do you know what happened to all those things that I once feared? I slew them. I slew them all. And now…well now I am a thing to be feared.” His grin widened, stretching his face to the point of pain, but Loki knew how it made him look, how twisted the embellishments of his birth became when his lips curved upwards. This guise was easy, Loki the monster, so much similar to be this, the deformed whelp of a mad tyrant, greedily he drank in the look of panic, of horror and indeed fear in the man’s eyes. Here he had power, there was no uncertainty, no failure, no sick dark urges that threatened against his mind. This was just him and the darkness and the lure of soon spreading blood. 

“I will not fear you.” Narfi stuttered out, the fear already a heady stink on him belittling his lie. 

“There are many sorcerers in the realms and yet few chain their shadows, do you know why?” Loki asked regally moving about the room swishing one hand and ghosting the shadow in and out of reality as if he were waving a curtain over its existence. “To enslave a shadow you give it sentience, you give it life, and living things they don’t care much for being made a slave. Now if someone stronger should come along, someone who’s craft exceeds the shadows master, well they might do something of obscene recklessness like free their shadow.” He hinted with a light voice, his ever present grin marring his features. “And who knows what the shadow might do once freed, what vengeance they might enact upon their master.” Loki swished closer, advancing on Narfi, staring down the shadow that attempted briefly to step in his way and gripped hold of the bottle around the council members neck, he tightened his grip in one fluid motion and the shadow let out an inhuman moan, loud and victorious, but tinted with animalistic madness. Loki stepped away quickly but trained his eyes on the man. The shadow seemed to turn to Loki once, it’s eyeless gaze over him studiously before it flooded it’s master. 

There was no scream. That surprised Loki. No begging, no noise at all as the shadow shoved its half formed shape down its masters gullet. But the eyes, the eyes widened in terror hurled out a thousand cries that never made a sound, and then there was blood. Every rivet of blood a man might hold in his meat splattered out at once, hurling its fluid over the room, marking Loki red as his eyes from his crown to his feet. But he still forced himself to watch as the form of the man lurched over slightly, lumps of meat dripping from his mouth as the organs were expelled one by one until they were an unidentifiable mound on the floor between the once council member and Loki. Loki looked over with curiosity.

“You kept the bones?” He noted with interest.

“Indeed.” The shadow whispered back from inside it’s stolen flesh.

“I had thought you might expel them also, a waste for one such as you.” He commented wryly. 

“I was feeling idle, I have little need for them but they might assist me later.” The shadow told him with a shrug and then glanced at Loki curiously. “This does not disgust you.” The creature spoke, neither accusing nor judging, merely fact.

“I am a far worse creature than you.” Loki told him and the shadow smirked back at him.

“Indeed I believe you.” The shadow answered back. 

“What will you do now?” Loki asked with a cock of his head, he always did enjoy conversing with the damned, the lack of judgement was refreshing, though there was something to be said for Thor’s scandalised expression. 

“I might stay. I have given this man much, it would please me to enjoy my labour.” The shadow replied. 

“Might I count on you to argue against me without as much further as your dear expired master?” Loki asked a hopeful look on his face, a merry smile from behind the gore he had become. 

“Indeed. It is little thanks for one who freed me.” The shadow even gave a little bow. 

“You are most welcomed. I know the debt of being freed from bondage.” Loki told him loftily. “Though might I take from you these offerings?” Loki asked pointing to the sopping pile of waste the shadow had expelled from the skin he now inhabited.

“You wish for his innards? May I ask why?” The shadow asked with the same scholarly interest.

“A man with my skills may learn much from the waste of his enemy, including perhaps the name of his master.” Loki cast his hand over the dingy pile on the floor and it vanished off to some safe location, Loki still liked to have his secrets after all. 

“You know that if I knew the name…” The shadow spoke, but Loki held up one hand to silence him.

“I know this game well enough to know you would never have been given his name.” Loki grinned in honest amusement at himself. “Now if you excuse me I think I might need to bathe soon.”   
~~L/T~~  
Thor spent over nine hours searching for Loki. It seemed as if he searched all of Asgard. He searched the gardens, spied in every secret grotto, scanned the branches of every tree hoping that he might find Loki lethargically hanging on a bough. He searched the library, and Loki’s chambers, both were empty and void of even the call of birds. He walked through every sitting room the palace had, walked every corridor and stairwell until a rather nasty callous started on his heel. It seemed he had taken in the sight of every last thing the palace had to offer other than that which would give him most pleasure, the sight of Loki. Irritated he sat down in the hall and glared at a tankard of beer. From behind him a little chatter started, irascibly he turned to the noise and scowled at a few members of his father’s council who seemed a little taken aback by the prince’s darkening mood. 

“Does something weight on you, my Prince?” One of them asked lightly.

“Nothing of your concern.”

“Lost your pet?” One of them whispered loud enough to be heard but quiet enough to be denied. Thor growled back. 

“I know not if this will interest you…” One of them started casually, there was something about him that Thor was sure he was supposed to remember but in truth Thor struggled to distinguish his father’s council members from each other in the best of times. “…but I did hear that your advisor, Loki Laufeyson, had taken himself a refuge in the baths.”   
Thor stood at once, his mood brightened, and he clasped the council member by the shoulder in thanks before tearing off to the large baths. 

The room was cavernous, each sound reflecting inwards on itself with added further as the water dripped against itself in the deep well of the bathing pool. The air was usually thick with steam, now completely clear and there was a chill in the air that seemed to resonate from the water. Thor grinned, there was only one soul in all of Asgard who would choose to bath in iced water. Aside the chill of the air the scent of cinnamon and apple sung quietly to the senses, Loki’s favoured scents. It seemed all that was missing was the man himself.

“If you had thought to catch me in a moment of vulnerability, I fear you come too late, Odinson.” An unmistakable voice called from behind him and Thor turned to see Loki, dressed in little more than the white of his loincloth and his quicksilver grin.

“Never is the hour too late when it brings you to my sight.” He confessed in a whisper drinking in the visage before him trying to keep his mind from the memory of days before when Loki had curled inwards towards him, vibrating in his want, his desires. Loki rolled his eyes at him but his face was clear of reproach and Thor deemed it safe enough to step towards him. Loki’s eyes lifted in slight distrust, tracking his movements but he did not step aside and allowed Thor close enough to run one hand over the water chilled slope of his forearm, his thumb taking up the river like score of his beloveds markings. “I searched for you.” He told him honestly and waited for Loki to reproach him as he knew his dearest was happy to do. True to form Loki scoffed and pulled away from Thor.

“I did not realise that the forests of Asgard had become so bare of creatures that its prince must take to hunt a friend.” Loki still named himself no more than friend when he spoke to Thor, sometimes advisor, but even that was rare, as if words were enough to form a barrier between their deepening connection. “Or do you fall back to old sport and think to hunt yourself a monster?” Loki teased.

“You are no monster, Loki.” He tried his best to assure him but Loki merely barked out a laugh and his eyes trailed to a heap of blood drenched cloth that had once, no doubt, slung itself over Loki’s lean body, now too sodden with gore to be salvageable. “Have you been in battle?” Thor demanded searching over Loki for sign of injury, nearly every inch of skin open to his sight and none anything other than perfection. 

“I do not battle, Odinson.” Loki reminded him with a snakes tone, the one that sent little spirals of heat through Thor as if he called the thunder to him. “I plot and strike… and kill. I did tell you there would be blood.” Loki told him loftily and Thor’s breath stuttered in his chest at a reminder of that moment when Loki had been so close to him, so wrapped in the same desires, and lit up from the inside with the promise of sex and violence. “But fear not, no man limps away from my meeting, and there is no less head and hands and feet in Asgard then there was on the morn. It is the blood of a shadow, an echo of bleeding and nothing more.” Loki reassured him with that wicked grin of his, the one that told Thor there was more to this story but even if he pressed he would get little more than a far removed tale. “Now, you talked of hunting me down, what is it you wish of your prey?” Loki asked his eyes glittering darkly, tempting Thor to meet his almost flirtatious banter. 

“Nothing more than your company.” Thor pushed the words out as Loki came near upon him, his scent thicker and the delicious cool touch of skin against his own rapidly heating flesh serving to fuel his gathering ardour. 

“Then you are no huntsman.” Loki chided. “It is petty sport to hunt for nothing, a true man takes more than joy over his conquests, a true man either skins his prey for the pot or nooses them to servitude.” Loki smirked at him, close enough now to kiss. “Which is it you make of me, Odinson? A rabbit or a dog? A meal or a pet?” 

“Then I am no hunter at all for you are neither in my eyes.” Loki sighed at him for not joining in his game but allowed Thor to touch him, to run his hands once more over Loki’s shoulders, up his cheek only moving away when the grasp around his neck moved from companionable to something more intimate. 

“Well then, I give you a choice, Odinson. You may play the child and hunt your friends and allies in the cosy safety of the palace or you might come with me and adventure to the lands of the dark elves.” Loki offered his ultimatum.

“The dark elves? Loki, they are in the middle of a war of succession, it would be a quick death whatever house we went to.” Thor told him scoffing at Loki’s seemingly unthinking act. Loki looked at him with mild disappointment in his eyes.

“Only if one does not know the correct roads to take. There are paths of such overwhelming safety that we might as well stroll from here to Svartalfheim with targets on our backs and have no arrow touch us but the warming beams of the sun. And it is precisely because there is unrest that we go. I wish to send Eseross our support in this delicate time and I trust no messenger with this task.”

“Does the council know you attempt this?” Thor asked, the last he had heard the council was still unsure about Loki’s rather daring plan to shift the succession of Svartalfheim’s leadership.

“Oh yes, Narfi has graciously backed me in this matter.” Loki told him his arms swinging slightly as he loped away from Thor to pick out the two pins from his ruined clothing.

“Narfi! I thought he was your enemy!” Thor demanded to know looming over Loki as if it were possible to threaten the wonderful dark creature. Loki turned to him a look of total innocence written over his features.

“Why whatever could have given you cause to think such thoughts? Narfi is my closet ally on the council and indeed a beloved friend. Now, do you head for Svartalfheim with me?” Loki asked.

“Loki, I would deny you nothing.” Loki laughed at his statement.

“That shall be written on your tombstone.” Loki told him gleefully, one hand whisking his ruined clothes away to nothing. 

“I thought it was to be ‘he gave his trust to Loki’.” Thor threw back as Loki stood and guided them seamlessly out of the baths.

“Do not fret, Odinson, I shall make sure it is a large tombstone, plenty of room for all your failings.”


	17. Part 17 Giving is sometimes taking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor take a trip to the home of the dark elves

Part 17 Giving is sometimes taking

Thor watched as Loki stretched out his arms above his head is blissful relaxation, giving a soft sigh as he clicked his neck. Free of the palace Loki seemed to move with less grace but greater comfort and Thor was at once saddened that his dearest felt the need to act such pretence, but also overjoyed that this unknowable creature let down some of his guards around him. The path to Svalterheim was indeed deserted, but this was probably because of the veil drawn over it. The thin sparkled ghosting of purple that hung to either side leaving them open only to air above them. Thor reached out with one hand to see what it might feel like beneath his touch.

“Don’t touch it.” Loki called from in front of him as if he had seen Thor stretch out for the barrier. Though when Thor sharply turned to stare at him Loki’s eyes were shut to the world, his hands balancing strangely on the top of his head turning the bracket of his arms into a diamond around his head. Loki had forgone all his usual embellishments but Thor knew they were close at hand should he need them. Loki had the rather useful ability to pull any item to his grasp with the slightest trail of green power. 

“Why?” Thor asked, knowing better than to deny that he had sought to touch the veil. Loki stopped and allowed him to catch up, a few short paces putting him level with him. Loki turned serious eyes on him, green with surging power and Thor suspected for the first time that if Loki didn’t walk with him he would not be able to perceive the sharp edges of the pathway.

“Well, would you much care for it if you were simply fulfilling your duty, guarding the path of the magic weavers from those who would abuse it, and some great lunking oaf reached out with one clubbish hand and poked at you?” Loki asked with a laugh in his voice.

“It is alive?” Thor asked amazed as he turned his head around, the walls seemed to bristle at his question, the purple deepening to a burnt red.

“In a sorts.” Loki shrugged. “Not the same way that you or I live, but nor is it dead in the way of bricks and mortar.” He told Thor factually and then returned to his quiet enjoyment of the stroll. Thor was still unsure about this travel, his father had been sceptical and he did so hate to rebel against his father and Kings wishes, but Loki had argued his point and with the voice of the council behind him it had been agreed. They had taken the bifrost to the edge of the realm. Something which Loki seemed to detest, if his low growling with the guardian was anything to go by, and then met with the veiled path they now took on.

Either side of them the kingdom of the dark elves weaved and seemed to fight with itself. Thick vines of differing greens bit and strangled at each other for dominance. The pale sickly light of the sun a commodity much argued over by the struggle hardened foliage. Occasionally the monotony of green was broken with dashes of poisonous purple and slashes of red, or with the light glistening eyes of the forest creatures, large flashing circles of light seemingly without homes to glow from. Thor did not feel Loki’s ease in this place and wished once for the golden light of Asgard. One look at Loki’s contented expression washed away his selfish designs for home and his heart settled for Loki’s happiness over his own. The feeling only grew as Loki took up a quiet tune, a mix of humming and whistling from between his lips, soft and melodic, causing the veil to shimmer with appreciation. Thor contented himself with silence until they reached the home of Eseross. 

Each of the princes of Svartalheim had their keeps, each as grand as each other, though years of ownership had ingrained a sense of each into the stones. Whomever took the throne would have the honour of his own keep being proclaimed the new palace, the other princes would have to abandon their own homes and come, their families in tow, to the new court. The old keeps would be left for the sons of the new king and the process would repeat unerring until the end of time. Eseross was the most like his father, he held the belief that the elves were the highest of all races, that magic craft was the strongest weapon and that it was only natural for the kingdom of the light elves to surrender themselves into Svartalheim’s glory. And his keep reflected his mind. The walls themselves were painted the burnt purple of the elven skin, cracked and fading in places where the harder elements had whipped and lashed at the embellishment. The main body was the sensible thick square, no doubt built by the dwarves, either by payment or force, but each side had six spirals curling up out of them like the intricate shells of some fantastical sea creature, newer than the rest of the build. Ridges lifted and blossomed into veins along the edges as if blood pumped through each one, and following with the eye up the spirals left a man to feel dizzy and unsure of his feet. Gold glistened through the raised markings of the spirals, not the same vain demonstration of the Vanir but a rough almost blood drenched reddish gold, as if it was still molten and not cooled to solid decoration on the spires. Thor was enough of a warrior to be on his guard as they approached but Loki seemed perfectly at ease. A low rumble vibrated through Thor’s throat and his hand itched to seek out the comforting weight of his weapon. Loki laughed, light and merry next to him.

“Odinson need I remind you that it is terribly ill mannered to slay ones host when on a diplomatic mission?” He teased and Thor dropped his hand and allowed Loki to turn around and face him, fuss with his tunic and shine one of his buckles with a quick breath and the heel of his palm. “You are the son and heir of a great realm and you come now, not for blood and glory, but for peace and friendship between two realms.”

“I do not think the dark elves make for goodly friends for Asgard.” Thor told him in honesty. Loki just laughed at him again.

“As Thor you may choose your friends however you please, you may pick those who you most wish to drink with, to sing with, to share your days with. But as Prince and heir you will have the friends you must, you will shake hands with every vile creature and you will smile as if they are your dearest most beloved of friends, do you understand me?” Loki questioned, some of the hard savageness that he usually spared Thor coming out in his tones.

“You wish me to make nice with these creatures, to forget what they are?” Thor asked incredulously. “You, who always tell me to take more care with whom I trust, you ask of me to unquestioningly lay myself bare for their attack?”

“Of course not, Odinson.” Loki laughed at him whirling away slightly. “You are the open hand and I am the hidden blade. I ask you only to pretend to offer them friendship. You will use them as long as they are of use, squeeze them until they are dry and then toss them aside for better allies.” Loki grinned at him. Thor just gaped his mouth at the evil things that fell from his beloved’s mouth. Loki caught his look and the expression of delight beamed out of his face. “Welcome to kingship, your highness.” He mocked and then with a swish of his hand the barriers disappeared, leaving nothing but the slightest hum of its existence. 

Had they been in the court of the light elves there would have been much ceremony, much cheer and celebration as they walked in, but this was not the home of the light elves and Thor and Loki were ushered inside as if they were criminals hastened into hiding. A page looked them over sceptically as they edged to the door to the main hall and, if Loki’s plan went to seed, the next throne room of Svartalheim. He seemed posed to find some fault in their appearance but one raised brow from Loki threw him into silence. Something akin to pride flooded Thor as he watched the respect that Loki was often given in the houses of those that served magic. Without pomp or glory they were guided inside. 

The seat of the dark elven prince was grand, it’s back reaching towards the ceiling and spreading out in sweeping arches like an explosion trapped in the middle of its carnage. When his uncle had kept the keep the arches had paid host to the bones of their enemies, mostly the light elves, a grim display of a battle mage. Eseross had obviously had them taken down no wishing to wallow in another’s accomplishments and thus belittle his own. But the marks of death still lingered, the groves worn into stone still curved in the unmistaken shapes of misplaced skulls, the rounded edges of pelvises and the taped shapes of forearms. Now it was bare marked, not in gore but in colour, dark lines of purple trailing this way and that over the stone, more permanent without the combat of weather against them. 

Eseross himself should have seemed small in the centre of the chair. He did not. He was as large as Thor, built out with curved shoulders and deep rivets of muscles, his movements making a display of the motions under his skin like watching a snake tense the endless muscle of it’s shape around it’s victim. His skin, like most of his kin, was a dark purple, a few shades lighter than his seat, and covered in a tunic from his neck to his feet leaving only his arms bare to the world, and these were choked in placed by squeezing bands of that same devilish gold. His hair was a light colour, almost platinum in places and weaved behind his pointed ears in the simple bands of the unwed. When he took a bride it would be she that would take to braiding him in the more intricate twists to show her dedication. His eyes were smoked grey and sharp, and his face set in a show of honour and pride. His hand gripped around the rest of his chair and the sharp pointed nails of his hands scraped in a vile pitch over the stone. 

“The Odinson, in my chambers, what fortune.” His voice was as deep and gravelled as the movement of rocks against each other. “And his little Jotun, yes I have heard of you.” He spoke to Loki who grinned at him.

“I should hope you have. This is not the first I have stood in this chamber, my prince.” Loki took up the conversation as easily as Thor would in a tavern and he settled himself to watch, Loki always told him he made a better impression with his mouth closed. “Though I note it has changed much since your uncle named it home. Say what you will for the old man he certainly held a flair for décor.” Loki smirked and Eseross glared down at him their eyes meeting for a moment. 

“It was not to my taste.” Eseross finally said and Loki shrugged at him.

“I suppose he was rather fond of killing. I hope you find such acts as tasteless ast he embellishments.” Loki smirked politely at their host.

“All things have their needs, killing has it’s time.”

“As does peace.” Loki replied. 

“Peace?” The prince seemed oddly pleased at the thought. “Is this why Asgard backs my succession, you believe I will bring peace? You should tarry to my older brother keep, Jotun, you will find peace a more apt word in his house.”

“Ah yes but only half that keep is his, and not the half that men take measure of.” Loki laughed hinting at the eldest lack of royal blood. 

“It matters not. Even if he does not take the crown, my other brother is the next choice in such things.” Eseross seemed almost to whine this and for the first time Thor started to believe that Loki had been right, Eseross was a coward, he was not even willing to fight for the crown.

“Oh Orn, I have heard whispers of him, whispers that run my blood cold at the thought of him with crown.” Loki smirked. 

“And that is all they shall be, whispers.” Eseross argued back though he sat forward now giving Loki his full attention.

“There are always ways to turns whispers into rumblings, my prince.” Loki told him with the arch of one eyebrow. Eseross was quiet for a good long time before he smiled softly.

“I welcome you to my house, Odinson, may our realms live long in peace with each other.” Next to him Loki glistened in victory and Thor nodded his head.

“And I, I thank you for your hospitality.” Thor echoed exactly what Loki had told him to speak.

“Come now, there shall be time for grim meetings and solemn halls when we are both kings, Odinson, for now we shall take merriment.”

~~L/T~~

Thor did not much care of the dark elves idea of merriment, there was a feast but the meat was so lightly cooked it bled in its centre, spirits that stripped the mouth of feeling and had not the warm contented feeling of mead or wine. And in the centre the entertainment ranged from the bewildering to the terrifying as those of the art manipulated the soft glow of magic to barbaric means. One women clothed in only a band of black over her sex twisted the body of a feline until it was inside out, it’s heart still beating visible between the exposed cage of its ribs. Next to him Loki seemed to enjoy himself, complimenting the mages with a lift of his hands into the air green magic pouring from his fingers in celebration of the art. He took to the meat like a man starved even catching the errant drops of red as they dribbled from the corner of his mouth. Later when the music began and half-clad men and women took to the floor dancing in pairs and groups Loki stood immediately and was with the first wave. It was not the courtly dancing of the Vanir but a wild abandoned flail of bodies, Loki only visible as a gleam of blue amongst the darker colours of the dark elves. 

Thor stared in wonder at how Loki seemed as home in this half wild feast as he did in the stately court. Not for the first time Thor realised what a boon the Jotun king had overlooked in not seeing Loki for what he was. Loki should have been a diplomat for Jottenheim, should have been sent to every realm with a false promise and a sharpened dagger to do well by doing ill. Thor wondered what he might have made of him if they had met in such a way. His first thought was that he would have laughed at the Jotun’s small size, thought him no challenge at all. But as he watched Loki move, his hips curving and swaying, his body gleaned with moisture in the heat, so much more oppressing to him in his true skin, Thor dreamed of another possibility. He saw himself trying desperately to coax this ambassador into a darkened corner, seeking to tempt him to his bedroom, whispering words in the shell of his ear in hope of just one touch. Thor put down his chalice fearing what the sharp taint of this spirit had brought him to when Loki sat with the resigning slump of the exhausted next to him.

“You should try your hand at it.” Loki told Thor waving his hand at the dancing. 

“Maybe if you would walk me through the steps.” Thor whispered back leaning closer to Loki than needed. Loki laughed at him and allowed the moment his eyes almost coy as they traced his face and Thor wondered for a moment what Loki saw there that it his eyes with fond amusement. 

“I hope you are enjoying yourselves, worthy guests?” Eseross appeared as if from nowhere and gestured for their cups to be filled, Loki thanked him with a nod and threw back his drink as if it was water leaving Thor to copy despite the way it already curled up inside him with giddying tension. 

“Indeed, I was just trying to convince the Odinson to take a dance.” Loki told him raising his voice over the din. 

“That reminds me you did say you might know how to raise certain rumours to the light.” Eseross’s gaze flicked between Loki and Thor. “It is such a dangerous art to unearth secrets after all anyone can be destroyed by whispers.”

“Whispers indeed.” Loki replied lying one hand on Thor’s shoulder almost intimately. “Though of course whispers can only harm when they are words that a man is not brave enough to speak in plain.” Loki’s eyes levelled on the dark elf and Thor had the suspicion that he was only privy to half a conversation. “Oh, while I have you I was wondering over our accommodation for our stay this night. I merely wished to tell that you only need provide one room, and one bed.” Loki’s hand moved on Thor’s shoulder to his neck whispering over his flesh. Eseross seemed slightly put out by whatever it was that Loki had implied, Thor could not have cared less what it was they spoke on for it meant that Loki brushed against him. Eseross nodded his head in grim acknowledgment.

“Of course, I will instruct my page.” Loki smiled in thanks to him and kept his hand firmly in place until the dark elfish prince was gone from sight. Thor took Loki’s hand in his own and brought it to his lips, his soft kiss against Loki’s blue flesh earning him a look of mild exasperation. 

“Does this go as planned?” Thor asked desperate for his beloveds approval.

“Somewhat, but I shall need your cooperation.” 

“Of course, Loki, you have it in all ways.” Thor swore to him kissing his knuckles in affection. Loki raised his other hand and slid it through Thor’s hair, the thin delicate digits gliding against his scalp.

“Good, and fear not, Odinson, you shall be rewarded for your compliance.”

~~L/T~~

Loki tried to ignore the irritation in his gut as he shepherded Thor to their room, practically reduced to kicking the Odinson into their chamber before surveying the room. As instructed there was but one bed but in corner was a bundle of blankets for another to sleep on. Loki crossed the room and gathered them up making sure not to split a single crease and laid them out delicately on the side so it would be more than obvious that no one would have used them. Loki did not care to be threatened the way that Eseross had clearly tried to earlier and he would have to show with unquestionable demonstration that Thor’s affections for him were not something that could be used as blackmail against them. But to do so he would need the Odinson’s help. A quick glance over his shoulder showed that Thor, already a little taken by the elfish sprits, had sat himself on the edge of the bed. Loki moved towards him, knelling over him, one knee sliding gently between Thor’s thighs. Loki tried to ignore the way it felt to have them move to accommodate him, the way the muscle shifted under him and how it felt for Thor to automatically move to let him in. 

“You cannot sleep in your armour, Odinson.” He whispered right into Thor’s ear feeling him swallow thickly against him. 

“Would you like for me to assist you?” He made sure to use his lightest tones in hope of rousing the Odinson to enter into his scheme. Thor slide one hand into Loki’s hair and pulled his face away a little so they might look on each other. Loki kept his face passive as he could, allowing only the slightest chasing of arrogance onto his face. 

“I would never rebel against your hands against my flesh.” Thor told him, his breath gusting in a heated promise over Loki’s cheeks. Quickly Loki’s hands took up their task, unbuckling and sliding the armour from Thor, making sure to slither his hands over the flesh underneath as if he were but inspecting it for where the armour had rubbed the flesh. Soon the Odinson was stripped of the thick metals that covered him and Loki began on the softer fabric of his tunic. Happily the Odinson complied fully, lifting his arms to allow Loki to pull the cloth from him. He even hummed his pleasure as Loki’s chest, bare by the necessity of his nature and the heat, brushed against his own. Thor stared at him, bewildered, unable to figure out Loki’s purpose and Loki stared back wishing he could capture that moment in amber for all time for the Odinson was enchanting in his confusion. When Thor pulled Loki back in he allowed it, relaxed his muscles so quickly tensed for escape and was dragged in for a kiss. 

The rough beard of the Odinson rubbed against his flesh, somehow pleasant even in its friction and he permitted Thor to deepen the kiss, allowed his head to be pulled into an angle so that Thor might lick into his mouth, a surprisingly enjoyable feeling for one that seemed to vulgar. Loki smoothed his hands over Thor’s chest, this was good, the Odinson was acting to his wishes but for his purpose he would have to be louder, his mouth unoccupied with Loki’s own to cast out sounds of his pleasure loud enough for the keep to hear that they might prove their acknowledgment of their relationship. Loki wondered how he might drag Thor from his lips enough to encourage him to yell his passions to the skies. A flash of something he had not thought on since that first time out in the gardens rushed like a poison in Loki’s head, that he might use his mouth on Thor’s sex, might taste him and thus leave the Odinsons’s tongue free to proclaim his enjoyment. Loki ignored the heat that rushed through him at the idea, it was a vile thought to take pleasure in, reduced to his knees before Thor, and yet if it would serve his purpose.

Slowly he pulled away ignoring the way that Thor tried to chase him with that greedy mouth of his and he slunk down off the bed to his knees, sliding his hands over the taut fabric of Thor’s hose and brushing over the tented display of Thor’s arousal before moving closer and rubbing his cheek against it. The noise that Thor expelled was not the noise of a warrior but instead a desperate whine low in his throat and Loki resisted the urge to laugh at him. Slowly he pulled down the hose gathered them at Thor’s calves and stared at the fully engorged sex that it revealed. It was only then that Loki realised he had no idea of what he was doing. 

“Loki…you need not…” Thor started, his voice already breathy with desire. Loki took that as a positive sign and gripped Thor tightly in his hand, the flesh so hot like gripping hold of a branders tool, but soft and almost pleasant against his palm. 

“Hush.” Loki commanded staring up at Thor, trying to pin him with his eyes and so not feel the weakness of being there, his knees already aching on the stone floor. “The only noises I wish to hear from you are those of your pleasure.” He commanded as best he could trying to push aside the sick desire to do this. Thor gave another whine, higher this time and louder. Loki almost sighed with relief that finally Thor was moving to his biddings and bent his head forward brushing down Thor’s length with his lips. Thor took in a shuddery breath as Loki lowered his head taking just the tip into his mouth. The flavour was not the most pleasant, mostly the tang of sweat on skin, and something else something bitter and warm, but it was by far not the worst thing he had tasted. There were desserts made from the milk of goats that were considered a delicacy in Asgard that were far more unpalatable in Loki’s opinion. Such things were irrelevant though and Loki took up a rhythm, similar to how he would it if was the tight grasp of a hand and not his mouth. His jaw ached and even now only taking the tip down he had to pull away to breath. He had heard scandalous talk of women and even men that could be paid for such an act that could swallow from tip to root and not so much as hitch in their breath.   
Loki tried to take in more, encouraged by the needy sounds escaping Thor punctuated by the call of Loki’s name and broken pleas as if he were being kept from something he desperately needed. Either side of his head the Odinson’s thighs started to shake and Loki realised in a flash that he was holding himself back. Black irritation swept through Loki that the Odinson would dare consider Loki not able to take something, not ready or experienced enough to fulfil him. Egged on by his own wounded pride Loki swallowed as far as he could. Thor was so large, even bigger in his mouth than in his hand and he could feel him now pressed up against the back of his throat, he tried to go further and had to pull away briefly to draw in deep breaths to fill his burning lungs. Barely had he taken two gulps of air then Thor’s hands were on the back of his head pulling him back with an instinct tug, forcing the hot weight of Thor’s cock once more down his throat. Thor took up a rhythm with no thought to Loki, setting a pace that rocked Loki on and off the Odinson’s cock. Thor’s hands gripped tight, his hair caught at the root in sharp winching tugs. It took Loki a few moments to realise that these sharp tugs were sending bolts of pleasure down into himself, shamefully his own desire was growing, he could barely help the moan that pushed out of his own mouth finding its shape against the shaft of Thor’s sex. At the moan Thor threw his head back and groaned loudly, his panting even thicker now, fast and desperate and Loki’s name was sounding more and more broken each time he spoke it. Loki realised quickly that it was the vibrations and he grinned around his mouthful and hummed steadily. Thor’s response lashed against Loki as he gripped him tighter, dragging him in until his face was pressed against the rough hairs that the Asgardian sported as decoration around his cock. 

One hand still rough in his hair, each tug standing shameful tingles of arousal down into Loki’s own sex which thickened unheeding to his reproach until it seemed to throb its neglect. Thor’s other hand brushed against Loki’s cheek feeling where his cock pushed in and out of Loki’s mouth, running over his gaped wide lips that felt almost as if they were about to split with their stretch. Something inside Loki whispered that as large as Thor felt there encased in his mouth he would feel all the larger as he slid into Loki’s body. Loki could not help his own pathetic noise of arousal against Thor’s cock and he looked up to see Thor watching him. His face was furrowed with concentration, his mouth open to spew out loud his pleasure, his skin tinted red with his passions and sweat dripping from him. The bitter taste had intensified in Loki’s mouth and the slick of more than just saliva eased the way for each of Thor’s thrusts into his mouth, his hips no longer still on the bed. Loki felt a surge of pride that he had done this, that he had wrecked the Odinson in such a way, he let Thor stare into his eyes and moaned in pleasure around him for show. Suddenly Thor lunged over, one hand pulled Loki as tight as it could pressing him close and with the loudest noise Loki had ever hoped for it ended.

Loki, of course, had known what was coming. He had seen ejaculate before. Had even seen Thor come for him twice, he knew and was expecting the bitter ropes of fluid to fill his mouth. It seemed, however, that watching the Odinson climax and to feel it push down his throat was quite another. The liquid flooded the back of his throat fast, pushing into him where only air was due. He took a short ill-judged gasp and more of Thor’s pleasure seemed to block and choke him. He turned away quickly, scrambling over the floor, hacking and gasping, sickly trails of spit and cum dribbling messily from his lips. Loki’s eyes went wide in his shame. He had never felt so far away from himself, so unbalance, so distant from what he knew and was comfortable with. He cursed inwardly because of course he would do this with Thor looking at him, Thor staring at him with eyes not yet unhazed from his peak. Thor who would see him like this, in his moment of absolute failure. Shame burnt through him and he curled inwards himself.

“Loki.” Thor’s voice was rough from bellowing his pleasure, but still soft and entreating as if Loki were some small animal in need of calming and not one of the most dangerous beings in all the realms. “Loki, I apologise, I meant to warn you, but I could not…it was…it was so much…too much…come here, please.” Loki just stared at him unsure over what to do, part of him wished he could take arms against Thor, he could, rip him to shreds so no man would know to speak of him as this pathetic little thing, Thor would probably stand and take it all, but the spell he had cast stayed his hand. Thor sank to the floor to join Loki, uncoordinated as he navigated his calves bound with his lowered hose and his own post-pleasure fatigue. Loki merely glared savagely into Thor’s chest as he was bundled against it tightly, the sweat slicking his skin and he was of good fortune that his own shameful arousal had dampened when he had choked or Thor would have been able to feel it as they pressed to each other. “I never would have dreamed you would have sought to pleasure me so. Tell me, Loki, how may I return your gift. I wish to please you.” Thor muttered in soft tones against Loki’s temple. Finally roused to action Loki wriggled away and gave Thor his coldest look.

“You may please me by going to sleep and leaving me to my own devices.” Loki told him getting to his feet and straightening his clothes. Thor stared at him in befuddlement for a while until he got to his own feet clumsily pulling his hose up and tucking his softened sex away. Loki was glad for that reprieve, he had found he was prone to find himself staring at Thor’s sex for some inexplicable reason, while impressive it was far from beautiful even by Loki’s deranged sensibilities. 

“But I wish to bring you pleasure.” Thor whispered to him coming close enough to brush their lips together and Loki belatedly realised he must have been able to taste himself on Loki’s lips, a thought that at once horrified him and sent a whisper of arousal against his wishes, down his spine. 

“What would be the point?” Loki asked as if he had no idea of what Thor was speaking on. “We have already shown that Eseross may not use our intimacies against you, we have disarmed him. Any further demonstrations would be pointless.” Thor’s face fell under Loki’s words, his mouth drooping in sorrow and for one terrifying moment Loki wished to take it back but he steadied himself, Thor had already seen him weakened twice that evening he would not survive a third. 

“That is why…you did that to prove a point to a foreign prince?” Thor asked his voice a chilling whisper.

“Of course, what reason else could there be?” Loki asked cruelly. “Now get you to bed, I have reason to search the grounds a moment, but I shall return, Odinson.” Before Thor could utter another word Loki vanished himself. Once out of the room he took a moment to compose himself, he fetched a glass of water and swilled it in his mouth before spitting it to the bristle grass to rid the corners of his mouth of the echo of Thor’s pleasure. Trying not to think on the look on Thor’s face as he left Loki took out the remnants of the councillor member Narfi and cast them in his workings. He sat for an hour using every spell of tracking he knew before admitting defeat, it seemed that whoever had taught the councillor the spell had not been born of Svartalheim. With a wave of his hand he returned to the room and Thor. The Odinson slept with his back to the centre of the bed, facing outwards and Loki managed to slip into his own side without the Asgardian prince stirring. He had just settled himself to sleep when an arm pulled around his chest and tugged him back tight. He had time only to tense before the breath of the Odinson whisked over his ear.

“I know not why you keep yourself from me, but I think you want this as much as I do, and I will wait until the day comes when you admit your affections, for I know it will come.” Loki froze he was capable of denying the accusation, or of laughing it away teasing at the Odinson’s lack of patience, instead he lowed his head until his chin rested on the Odinson’s wrist and said nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it turns out that thinking to myself, ok that's ready to upload, doesn't actually mean i have done it. Sorry! I kinda liked the dark elves, but i made up all the stuff about them, I'm not really sticking to cannon when it comes to this story.


	18. Part 18 small victories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki is no closer to finding out who moves against them and his feelings towards Thor just confuse him more.

Part 18 Small victories

Loki awoke to a sweltering heat. Somehow in the night his traitorous limbs had sought to fit themselves in and around the Odinson’s body, one of his legs trapped between the Prince’s thighs, one hand shamelessly pushed under the thin tunic Thor had slept in, and his head nestled into the crook of his neck. Sweat covered his skin in an unpleasant sheen, and he could feel the blood rising to the top of his skin. With an almost panicked rush he pulled away, wiping the residue off his face with the back of his hand, and pushing back his hair, which had fallen in bar like slits over his eyes. Nausea hit him harm, nearly doubling him over, he had slept the whole night in the constricting embrace of a madman, willingly, at any moment he could have thrust those large rope like arms off his body and yet he had chosen to do the exact opposite. His unconscious mind had revelled in the burning heat coming off the Odinson’s body, latched onto it like salvation. The thought alone was enough to flood his hollow feeling body with fear. Groggily Thor grumbled into wakefulness under Loki’s eyes. Those clear guiless eyes blinking at him sleepily, at once a wondrous and horrifying sight, and one hand reached out to grip Loki, to drag him back into that nest of unfathomable warmth. Loki’s gut clenched uncomfortably with the conflicting desires, he settled quickly for the safest and pulled away to his feet.

“Come, you cannot spend all day in slumber, Odinson. We cannot have our host think us idle creatures, now can we?” Loki suggested strolling over to a small wash basin in the corner of the room and dunked a small washcloth into it, glad to feel the cooling, sobering water on his skin, washing away the taint of salt left on his skin from his own perspiration. Sometimes Loki wondered if he let Thor too close for too long if he might burn alive and leave nothing but ashes as a corpse. He knew that Thor was watching him, and he tried to suppress the wicked desire to make some sort of show of this simple act, to roll the water over his skin, wondering if the Odinson might enjoy that. The thought lived for but a moment before Loki thoroughly killed it, he was not a creature for the Odinson to enjoy, he was Loki, son of darkness and ice, one night spent in the embrace of the sun did not change the facets of the moon. 

“I do not see why we should care how our host views us.” Thor groused at him, the rich vibration of his voice thicker with sleep. Loki turned and grinned at him, training himself to keep his gaze and not flush and turn like a blushing maid when Thor pulled his tunic up and shoved it away from himself petulantly. “Certainly he has given no thought to alter how we see him, he is every bit the monster I thought of him.” Thor whined like a child, but there was nothing of adolescence in the body before Loki, the dips and rivets of his muscles shifting as he rolled them out, stretching the night’s aches out of them. 

“And that, my blessed fool, is why we shall gain everything for this and he shall be left with the crumbs. We shall play the soft touch, greet him with smiles and fond word, there shall come a day when he thinks he knows you like the back of his hand, or the lines of his own crown, and so all the more shall we surprise him if we should have to turn.” Loki smirked at the exasperated look on Thor’s face, he did love to scandalise the good prince. 

“Barely have we extended the hand of friendship and already you are thinking of the time when we may have to wield the knife on him.” Thor groaned and hoist himself up out of the bed clothed in nothing but the morning light. This time Loki did move his sight, shifting himself away as if worried that he might move himself to stare, or touch, or some other foolish act. Thor dunked his hands fully into the basin and splashed his face and chest with a cascade of water. Loki frowned at the mess he made, glaring at the flood of water on the floor around Thor’s bare feet, not allowing himself to slink his sight upwards over the rest of the Odinson. 

“This is the game of kingship, prince of Asgard, this is how the game is played.” Loki told him with a shrug. “How one such as you ended up in line for the throne only proves that fate has the blackest of humour. I shudder to think what might have become of your golden realm if you were left to your own council.” 

“Ah, but I am not left to my own council, am I?” Thor smiled at him, a slightly evil grin that Loki didn’t doubt for a moment was learnt from himself. “The fates gifted me with a treasure.” He spoke shifting into his hose and tunic with ease and coming up towards Loki. Normally Loki thought little of his own state of dress, the simple loincloth protected what little modesty he had and staved off the heat from suffocating him. But under Thor’s blue stare, next to the Odinson’s fully dressed state, he felt utterly naked. “Sometimes I think it is a cruelty that you were not given a crown of your own.” He whispered, his sincerity a cloyingly sweet smoke.

“Nay.” Loki dismissed shifting away trying to get some distance between the two of them. “Creatures such as myself are of no use set up high on a throne, there is more power, and much more pleasure to be had, in the shadows then the garish light.” Loki pulled his cloak over himself fastening it tidily with his fingers, blue against red with little flashes of silver and gold. 

“Perhaps it is a good thing.” Thor laughed suddenly, the innocent and joyous sound twisting Loki’s innards slightly, and making his hands still a moment. “I would not like to have entered negotiations with you.” Loki grinned at the rather pleasing idea and he dared to move back into Thor’s space laying one hand on his shoulder as the bulk of the man bent in half to guide his shoes on. 

“I would have taken all you had, and you would have thanked me for it.” Loki told him smirking down at him. Thor lifted his head and smiled back before taking Loki’s hand off his own shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. 

“That is already so.” He whispered against Loki’s flesh and the Jotun tried his best to not swallow heavily.

~~L/T~~

Morning negotiations were tedious and uneventful, Eseross had a few councillors that felt the need to draw up contracts and treaties in advance and Loki snatched them up scanning them. There was nothing to cause distress, and he easily re-worded the documents to give Asgard more power. He noted with displeasure that instead of a fight the councillors hurriedly accepted his demands, Loki supposed they were rather in a rush to have their master made king after all. Loki kept half an eye on Thor at a nearby table trying his best to remain congenial to a monster that he detested, even supping some of the vile juice made from the dark elves less poisonous plants and sweetened with the pale honey like substance one of their insects made in such vast quantities it was as if they begged to have some of the burden taken from them. Once Loki was done he brought them to Thor to sign and soon it was time to leave. They were gifted with a small glass bottle of night mist, a rather potent ingredient in spell work that could be found nowhere else, a few casts of the powerful spirits they had indulged in the night before and a few colourful trinkets made of the blood coloured gold of Svartalheim. Thor said his farewells and went to leave, pausing a few steps afterwards when he realised Loki did not follow after him. Loki motioned with his head to carry on and with a distrustful frown the Odinson did as he had been bidden. Loki rounded on Eseross with a snakes smile. He gripped hold of Eseross’s hand tightly, the look on his face as pleasant and placid as always but his eyes lit with green power, and from the way the prince squirmed Loki knew those gold bands around his arm must have been heating to a nearly unbearable level.

“What…” The prince started trying to pull away but Loki slide a friendly arm around his shoulder and smiled affably.

“Now, calm yourself, there is no reason for your fellows to suspect we do anything else but hold companionable discourse before I depart, a few simple words between men.” Loki told him and the prince reluctantly set his face free of the fear going through him. “Now, that was not so difficult, was it?” Loki flashed him a wicked grin. “I wish for you to hear this, Prince Eseross. You will be king of this pathetic weaken realm because I wish it, and once you sit upon the throne you shall do whatever I ask of you, move your kingdom to my wishes. Do you understand me?” Loki gave him pause to respond but there was nothing. “Your uncle was a great war mage, he killed and skinned and bore his treasures for all the realms to see, I stood here once, in the great hall still clad in skin and bones of the fallen, I was but a pup and yet he gifted me with his books, his spells. I surpassed him in under a year, and you…you miserable little waste of diluted royalty, you are not even a shade of him. You committed a great folly last night. The Odinson is not my weakness, he is my trigger and believe me you do not wish to see what happens when you move me to protect him. If you should so much as be tempted with the thought of threatening him again I shall hollow you out and let the beasts wear you for you for sport.” With a smile and a friendly clap on the back Loki released him, feeling Thor come up behind him, obviously concerned at what tarried him too long. “So glad we could come and give our support to your noble realm, I know you will make a most gracious king.” 

“I thank you, and you, soon to be king of Asgard…” Eseross stared at Thor with a mixture of fear and awe. “Know that should I take the throne I would most moved to make Asgard a friend to Svartalheim.” His eyes flicked to Loki for approval and the Jotun nodded once.

“Thank you, Eseross.” Thor added smiling slightly before laying his hand on Loki’s shoulder, Loki tried not to shudder as his thumb rolled in a small circle over the flesh of his collar. “Shall we return? Unless there is more you wish to do here?” Thor asked his advisor and Loki turned his head to him to shake it.

“Nay, we go home, Odinson.”

~~L/T~~

“Nothing in Svartalheim then?” Loki’s shadow ally asked leaning back in a slender wooden chair in Loki’s library, comfortably settled into Nafri’s body as if it had been his own all along and merely usurped from him.

“Nothing.” Loki snarled and snatched at the papers between them glancing over them. He had bid the shadow to write out all the deeds asked of him by his master in hope of finding some pattern that might lead to the instigator. 

“Still at least you have the prince in your hands.” The shadow conceded with a sigh. “Now you have the throne of Svartalheim, a powerful mage in Vanaheim and my good self-right here in Asgard. One could suggest you were raising an army.” The shadow hinted looking at Loki with snake eyes.

“An army? Never would I own something so vulgar. Army’s come with fire and music and enough pomp for all the realms to follow their every footsteps. I prefer to think of you all are my little insurgents, sleepers if you will, waiting for my command to rise up and strike at our enemy.” Loki grinned.

“Ah, yes, but who is our enemy?” Loki growled at the question, his face falling.

“Would that I knew I would already have his head on a pike.” He spat out. “Whoever it is they move against Thor it would seem, or at least against Asgard. Look at this mandates that your host constructed they were designed to split the power of the throne once Thor had taken it as his own, had these been approved why the council could have blocked Thor’s every judgment. Someone plots against Thor, has for years, since his birth perhaps. And I will find out whom.”

“And when you do a vicious and lengthy end to him.” The shadow agreed with a little smile. 

“Indeed. For now we must find him.” Loki leant up to his feet sprawling over the table. “We can rule out Svartalheim, and Asgard, my little sorceress in Vanaheim has confirmed that realm is free, that still leaves four realms filled with those who might want to harm the prince and any of our dear deceased councillor I did not use in Svartalheim I sent off to Vanaheim and now we are left with none.” Loki groaned.

“Loki, calm yourself, whomever this soul is they have been moving against Thor for some time and he still lives, you will not allow anything to harm him. They will make themselves known and you will deal with them, it is that simple.” The shadow told him with a shrug leaning back further in his chair.

“You do not understand.” Loki snarled out from between clenched teeth. “Somewhere out there someone knows more than me, is making a fool of me with every passing moment he alludes me, and I will not have that.” Loki tried to ignore that had this plot been against himself he would not be dragged to such tension.

“Do I interrupt something?” Thor asked in the doorway looking in to see a council member and Loki only, Loki had not deemed it wise to tell the Odinson that a traitor had sat at his father’s table for years, besides he would not be Loki without his secrets. 

“We were but discussing the next meeting, but it is nothing of import.” Loki dismissed. 

“We need only another hour or so, my prince.” The shadow simpered as if he truly were nothing more than a councillor. 

“Oh, if you should wish to find me after I shall be in the gardens.” Thor spoke stiltedly clearly not wanting to beg for Loki’s time but needing to anyway.

“I shall not keep him from you for long, my prince.” The shadow spoke. “Actually, I think it might be of benefit if the prince’s advisor did spend more time with the Odinson. He takes the throne soon and his wishes should be thoroughly considered, if there are any of his father’s laws he wishes to amend and such. Perhaps you should spend some time in private with each other?” In his peripherals Loki saw Thor’s face light up at the idea and ignored him to glare at the councillor.

“Truly?” Loki asked his face set to a glare.

“Indeed, if we are to continue with what we have discussed it would be best if you stayed with the Odinson.” He pointed out.

“You are correct, of course.” Loki lifted his head to Thor. “I shall be with you as soon as I can, I shall find you in the gardens.”

~~L/T~~

Thor awaited Loki, it seemed as if that was his lot in life for the moment, to wait for Loki. A lesser man may have given up by now but Thor was moved to hope by the devious Jotun. The sun beat down pleasantly over his skin and he shut his eyes to indulge in remembrance of Loki’s hands upon him, the heat and wet of his mouth, how he had seemed to take pleasure from the act himself. Thor lost himself entirely as he imagined what it might be like to return the gift so awkwardly given. To lay out Loki and know the taste of him, to see him reduced to pleasure, stripped of the guises and plots and left to nothing but Loki. He was so gripped by his fantasy that he hardly noticed the time pass until there was a light and familiar chuckle above him.

“Such unguarded rest out in the open, Odinson. You are lucky I come up upon you with nothing of more threat than an orange.” Loki took a seat next to Thor and threw an orange at him, one of his own still nestled in his hands. Thor caught it and glanced at Loki who smiled companionably at him.

“I do not doubt you could find a way to kill me with objects even more innocuous than this.” Thor commented breaking into the fruit’s hard rubbery peel, struggling to part it from the flesh. Loki laughed at him, his quick fingers shedding the peel as if it was nothing, curling it off the fruit the way one might undress an apple with a blade. 

“Then you should be less thankful of the weapon and more thankful of the wielders bewildering affections for you.” Loki told him with joyous pomp, pulling the segments apart and biting viciously into one. 

“Indeed I am.” Thor replied. Loki seemed happy. Though Loki had also seemed happy pawing over dusty documents in the library with a member of the council. He had also seemed happy in the chaos of Svartalheim. The thought was puzzling. “You have done yourself well in the court of Asgard.” He stated and Loki looked at him in slight curiosity, another piece of orange falling victim to his sharp teeth. “But you also took a place well in Svartalheim. How can you be both a creature of savage entertainment and a creature of law and wit?” Loki laughed at him and stole the fruit from his hands. He made fast and simple work of the peel and threw the innards back to Thor.

“I have a thousand faces, Odinson, pray you never see them all, for some of them would seem as nightmares to the waking eye.” Loki told him darkly and Thor wished away the low heat that pooled within him every time Loki spoke in those chilling tones, every time he thrust up into Thor’s face that he was a wicked thing, so far from the goodness and valour of Asgard.

“And which face is the truth?” Thor asked captivated by Loki’s eyes, red and sharp peering out of all that blue.

“They are all true.” Loki asserted him. 

“How can that be?” Thor asked trying hard not sound the fool before Loki.

“Let us take those in the court of Svartalheim, never had I seen them before and nor shall I in all likelihood see them hence. All they may know of me is that one night, is my every act and every word, it is complete and for them it is true. So too is the Loki of Asgard complete, those who have had occasion to speak with him have their own little truth. The only soul they are lie for it myself, and that is of little consequence for I am a creature of deceit.” Loki shrugged and settled himself back into the grass. He always seemed so content out in the gardens and Thor wondered with a stab if this was just his Loki. He wondered with bitterness if the Loki of some other sole preferred the soft trappings of some stately room to the wilderness he entwined himself with.

“And what of one such as I, I see you take these roles, when you leave them is there a glimpse of you that I might dwell on?” Thor asked, hopeful and desperate. Loki eyed him with distain and he knew the answer for it was spoken.

“No.” It was simple and dismissive at first but then there was more. “It is simply that the guise I hold for you takes on guises of his own. But do not let it vex you Thor, this is your truth you should not be concerned over wither it is mine also.” Thor frowned at Loki who sighed and continued once more. “Hear me, Odinson, most people you know you know only a lie of. Through their acts and passing tales you form a picture in your mind that through no fault of their own could be every bit the lie as one of my own. If soles should have to form some picture of me that might slip far from reality then it suits be better to make one of my own for them rather than rely on their own misconceptions and petty minded assumptions. I would be a lie regardless, at least in this it is my lie.”

“And what of your feelings? Are they but fiction as well?” Thor asked and Loki laughed so loudly that a few birds skirted away from their perches.

“Feelings?” Loki scoffed at the words. “Why feelings are nothing but justifications for sins.” He announced as if it were carved in stone. Thor’s face must have reflected some of his abject confusion for Loki deemed it wise to continue to explain. “When a lover turns their affections towards another it is jealousy that moves a man to ill-thought action. And afterwards what does he blame but a broken heart? ‘She hurt my feelings’ he might bemoan and all the while it is simple jealousy that moved him. And look on you. You might call your ‘feelings’ for me love, but perhaps it is but lust and pride. Perhaps it is just because I do not bow to your desires, and this chase might be alone what captivates you. Who knows what you might do if you were ever to catch me.”

“I would keep you forever.” Thor swore, aching at the idea that Loki might dismiss these emotions as nothing but a thrill for him. 

“I am not one to be kept.” Loki’s face darkened slightly at the idea and Thor was reminded of a tower of ice and gag of stiches. 

“Then you may keep me. And I will be yours.” He swore, something akin to surprise shifted over Loki’s face. 

“A king should make no such promises.” Loki told him gently refusing to acknowledge his offer. “You are taken already, you belong to every man, women and beast in Asgard. There are seeds in the ground that you belong to more than you could ever fathom belonging to me.” Loki told him.

“I give myself to Asgard, have since I was born. I would lay down my blood for this realm. But the piece of me I give to you I did not even know I had, and now whether you take it or not, it is yours, Loki.” Thor moved slightly and threaded one hand into Loki’s dark hair, the other behind him holding him up. Loki did not move away from him and allowed him to pull closer until their lips touched ever so lightly, the chaste kiss of a promise and nothing more. Thor moved back and watched as Loki’s tongue darted over his lips to chase down the taste of him, the pink insides of his mouth calling Thor back inwards, but he refused. 

Loki seemed stopped entirely, his eyes held on Thor and slowly he moved into Thor’s space. The scent of cinnamon and apples wafting with him, along with the slight dry scent of parchment and dust, and the smoke and ice scent of Loki. No matter what he spoke, what guise he took, this was real, the scent of him in the air, the touch of his fingers in Thor’s hair, on his shoulders, tentative and needy all at once. Loki’s mouth captured Thor’s and he tasted of the sharp tang of the oranges they had shared but a moment ago. Thor’s hands reached up and cradled Loki’s face fighting the urge to roll them over and hold Loki under him, to pin him between the grass and soil of Asgard and himself. Loki seemed to shudder as Thor’s hands skimmed lower, tracing over the ridged indents that marked him as Jotun. He knew them but heart now, could draw them by writ, had in idle moments scribbled them onto the curve of his chair with nothing but his finger for ink and quill, but there was nothing better than tracing over the original. He pulled away to Loki’s dissatisfaction and he would have to remember that high tight whine of reluctance for the next time Loki took his leave of him. He lay his face against the flesh of Loki’s neck and ran the tip of his tongue over the curved and raised line that skimmed in a half moon over the column of his throat. The hands at the back of Thor’s head tightened into claws, dragging at the roots of his hair, but it was worth it for the shudder that went through Loki with a hissed out curse. He smirked into that blue flesh and moved to trace the other side but was stopped by blue hands pushing him away, scrabbling against his chest desperately. “You cannot tell me that you do not want this.” Thor murmured desperately into Loki’s neck, trying urgently to capture but another moment more.

“Hush, you foolish creature, someone comes.” Loki huffed out, his breathing erratic and heavy as he finally made to move away. He pulled the red cloak around himself, hiding his body from view and Thor wished to do nothing more than rip that cloth away from him, the cloth that had once been his and now was in league against him it seemed. Only the start to voices stopped him. The clang of metal on metal called out the approaching figures as guards and too soon for Thor’s liking the men stepped into sight, their eyes searching.

“Ah, my prince!” One of them called, and the other flicked his head around to catch the two of them. They bowed deeply to Thor who tried his best not to glare and demand they leave at once and offered Loki a curt nod which made the Jotun light up with vicious glory. Thor watched him bask in the reluctant respect the guards gave him and wished nothing more than to grab him once more. 

“What brings you here?” Thor demanded a little harsher than he had meant his voice to carry. “I was in meeting with my advisor.” He glanced sideways at Loki to catch the slight upturn of his lips to denote his amusement at his phrasing. His heart surged to joy at that sight. 

“Notice from the King, he wishes to see you.” The guard announced.

“Both of you.” The other added hastily. 

“Tell him I will see him on the morrow.” Thor dismissed, his father could wait an eternity for all he cared if what he got instead was more of Loki’s frantic gasps and shivers. 

“Do not be so uncouth, Odinson.” Loki broke in, his stress on Thor’s title hard and belittling, reminding him of his place in the way of things. “We shall of tarry immediately to the king’s throne.”

“Surely he can wait but a moment…” Thor started to complain but Loki was already on his feet, brushing off the grass and little pieces of orange peel to the ground.

“Come now, Thor, you don’t want to start the rumour that a king of Asgard might be disobeyed now, do you?” Loki smirked and set off towards the palace, not turning his head back towards Thor. He did not have to for Thor was there, moving quickly to his side, brushing their shoulders together as they moved, Loki allowed the contact. It was not the same as having Loki under him, writhing in his pleasure, but Thor would take his victories where he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think that the rating might have to go up on the next bit...we shall see how vulgar i will get. It was going to get much more vulgar but my dog was staring at me...judging me...it was offputting. Though i do like writing the scenes between Odin and Loki as they are so opposed.


	19. Part 19 How we are seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have to face Odin's displease and then a trip to the elvish kingdom make it harder for Loki to deny his feelings

Part 19 How we are seen

Thor did not wish to glare so much up at his father as they stood awaiting what he had to say, but he could not help himself. But a moment ago he had been wrapped in Loki’s embrace, feeling him quiver. He resented the man’s presence as the last lingering drips of lust tugged for his immediate attention, made all the worse by Loki next to him, his grin casual and his stance easy as if they had not been moments from crossing a barrier in their relationship. To his left Loki sighed and considered his nails as the old man stared down in judgment at them.

“You called us, father?” Thor asked eager to return with Loki to the gardens, or perhaps even to one of their chambers.

“Indeed.” The king of Asgard’s voice rang out with authority in the great hall and Thor only stopped himself from lowering his eyes with the memory that one day that throne would be his own to sit upon. “The two of you travelled to the land of the dark elves.” Odin accused and Loki let out a little bark of laughter.

“If you are going to wreck vengeance upon us for foolish acts at least make them acts that you have not condoned before they were taken.” Loki huffed his amusement and slumped himself down in a nearby chair, patting one to his side for Thor to sit on. Sharing the conspiratory grin of misbehaving children Thor joined him, allowing their hands to brush on the small gap between the arms of the chairs. 

“Exactly, I condoned you leaving, I even condoned your little plan to back Eseross in the succession. What I did not bid you do was sign a treaty with Svartalheim with absolutely no consideration to our other allies. Already do I sit with the worried letters of the queen of the light elves, beseeching Asgard as to why we throw upon the door of friendship to her most aggrieved enemy.” 

“Then hasten me to her court.” Loki said with a shrug. “I will give her such talk that when next she writes you it will be in full glory of your wisest choices to befriend the darkened elves.” Loki explained as if it was really so simple, his shoulders relaxed and his legs thrown over the other arm of the chair, one swinging knee brushing in irregular intervals against Thor’s hand making him itch to grab it.

“I would go also. To bar the mark of Asgard.” Thor added hastily aware that he sounded far too eager to go wherever Loki trod.

“You would have me send a snake to our allies door and lay out villainous poison to her ear?” Odin ignored Thor entirely and glared down at Loki who smiled back casually.

“Villainous? Too easily you lay that word upon me.” Loki sat up straight in the chair one hand laid on his chest as if he had been dealt egregious insult, before grinning and continuing. “And true I take it as a mantle, I wear it with pride, but also with care. Have you never stopped to ponder how my dark acts of ill have not stained so much as the hems of your son’s cloak. My villainy is but a subterfuge, wrought of my own wit, and brought forth for your glory, recast by Asgard as an act of virtue.” Loki explained in lofty tones as if he had done the king some great honour.

“I cannot allow for Asgard to be seen to harbour such wicked methods. I will not have it.”

“’Seen’, too fond you are of this word ‘seen’, one might think the bifrost is but one huge aglowing eye that casts judgment down on you, my king and sovereign. This ‘seen’ that all the realms do, by your imagination, cannot help but make me ponder if these grievous acts of villainy come not from my mouth but from my skin.” Loki smirked at him joying in the kings discomfort. “Does the fruit of summer take discomfort in the pit of winter sitting so central in its heart? I will make it clear; this hue is not so void of honour. At least this azure spread of wickedness has it’s loyalty. Why, all your own pale tones need is the briefest touch of the sun and they turn traitor to their hue and darken or else burn to pink and sickly red. How can you name my own constant pigment such a dark deed when your own knows not even its own colouring between the days, when indeed it’s able to soak up and bear any hue laid over it? It is little better than my own skills in mimicry, and if fair was something doled out as writ then peace might be bargained on you keeping to but one tone as well as myself. You may Judge me if it pleases, I would not dream of taking such a fond past time from you, but look unto your own land first. Look how bright the light of Asgard shines, how warm and pleasant heat doth breed goodness into you all. How easy does it make for blind foolishness to overlook the shadows in each corner? How easy might a man pass pride for valour. You, warrior king, master of your land, you see only in light, the wisest man takes heed of even the subtlest grey, but neither does he adore or condemn it, merely takes it into consideration.” Loki grinned and took up an apple from a nearby tray tossing it once and catching it. “Though perhaps I should not speak on sight, for it is easy to excuse your obsession with the act when it is twice as hard for you than any other. Forgive my words, my king, it was but a slip of the tongue.”

“I think your tongue does not ever move without your knowledge. You care too much for words and so little for deeds. I see now why your father choose to bind your lips and not your hands to end your villainy.” Loki’s eyes flashed in anger for a moment at the mention of his father’s punishment upon him. Thor had seen his beloved and his father come to verbal blows before, it seemed as if they could not bear to be within sight of each other and not begin to snipe at each other but Loki had never bristled before, never before had the air hung heavy with chill until it puffed from between Thor’s lips like a warning smoke. And yet Loki’s face still held only mirth in its fine features and those huge eyes were rubies still and not lit with green fire that so often preceded Loki’s violence.

“How little you think of me, my father was a fool, it is with more than words and tone that a man makes falsehoods, I have told more lies with the curve of a finger than a lesser might by dedicating a lifetime to tales. I ask you not to trust me, I would think you a fool if you did, I ask you to look on my methods, see outlined my trail, and if you still consider it a wrong path I will discard it with nary a word to its defence. Now hear but this, King Odin, if I wished for Asgard to be in ruins this talk would have been over ash and dust and nothing more.” Loki’s smile was a flash of evil and white sharp teeth, as if he could but open his mouth wide enough and swallow Asgard whole if he wished.

“Away with you, I wish to talk with my son a while, my answer will come with him.” Odin commanded rubbing tiredly at his brow. 

“Thank you, your highness.” Loki reached out and brushed his hand over Thor’s forearm. “I will await you in my chambers.” He added softly and without hesitation walked away.

“Father, I beg of you to take what Loki has said…” Thor began but was halter by his father’s hand.

“May the heavens help me, I have looked over his words and if there is some plot against Asgard I am too slow to hear it, too slow to see it.” Thor’s smile was short lived as his father glared at him, his one eyes filled with tired reluctance. “But this is not the way of Asgard, boy. You know this, must feel it in your bones. How far does this creature crawl inside you that you cannot see his hands upon your strings.”

“I am not his puppet.” Thor stated almost amused. “If I were he would take no enjoyment in my company, he would find no amusement in me. Do you fear I will bring Asgard disgrace?”

“I fear that you will follow a wicked teacher, it matters not the skill of his teaching, there is something more here and once I sleep there will none to dilute the poison he pushes through you, my son.”

“There is myself, my own moral compass the one you set for me a thousand times in my childhood. I am the man you crafted of me, know that my affections for Loki do not blind me to his ways. I asked of you before not to trust in him but in me, I rescind that. I do ask of you to trust him. Whatever path Loki is taking, he takes it for Asgard and he takes it for me. He has battled at my side, he has sat with your council and they have found him right, he saved me from the grave, and set my life to purpose anew. If you cannot trust in him, then you can in no man. Send us to the realm of the light elves, Loki will pull their queen from her doubts, all will be right. I have trust. Together we can bring peace, let me the lance and he be the dagger.” Odin looked down at his son and Thor tried to push all of her earnest nature into his eyes to beg his father silently for trust and faith.

“Never did I think that Asgard would need a dagger to wield, but it seems dark days come without heed to my wishes. Go, my son, and bring honour to your realm.”

~~L/T~~

Thor found Loki packing some of their things together, leafing through some of his books as if contemplating taking them with him before lining them up neatly in his chambers to the side of his bed. Thor considered the sight and his imagination ran to an image of Loki laying there at night, the starlight creeping over his face and a small candle lighting the pages he poured himself over, alone in his large bed with its wisp thin sheets. 

“It is rather rude to linger in doorways.” Loki not looking back at Thor. 

“I do not linger, I spy.” Loki laughed at his correction and turned to him with one eyebrow arched.

“Truly? I have known of cows that spy with more grace then you.” In a second Loki was upon him, the task of packing forgotten as he moved perfectly silent over the stone floor and advanced on Thor. “If you are to learn to spy you shall have to turn the thundering clod of your feet to the lightest whisper, turn the hash racking of your breath to a slip of air, and the hammer beats of your heart to nothing at all.” Loki intoned darkly as if these were things he could show Thor, lessons he might learn, and with Loki’s glowing eyes fixed on him, Thor did want to learn whatever it was that Loki sought to teach.

“I wish my father would not speak to you so, did he upset you, my beloved? If he has caused you grief I would know it.” Thor could not help but ask and immediately Loki changed, that sweet seductive thing that had advanced upon him grinned wildly and he turned back to the packing. 

“Truly? You think this ice cold skin so thin as to allow his words to do me harm? Nothing grieves me but that I cannot spend a thousand more words in war with your father.” Loki told him grinning. “It is a game, and one that neither shall win. I do so love to brace against his shield and parry with him. Now I am packed, when do we leave?”

“I thought my father did raise you to heat in his insult, are you truly so calmed?” Thor pressed unwilling to let it go if Loki was truly stung. Loki spun on him his eyes shimmering.

“Why do you care so much for my continence, we will be far from Asgard and its king in all too short a time. Ah, but you do not wish for me to cool, you wish for me to stay heated. Such perversion that you would use a disagreement with your father and king to bend me to your wants.” Loki mocked. 

“I should hope I need not need to resort to such things to raise you to desire, my beloved.” Thor grabbed Loki and swung their bodies together. Loki looked at him with slight amusement. “After all there was no quarrel in the gardens.” He pointed out watching Loki’s face for a hint of remembrance, as expected there was none. Just the casual set of his jaw and the calm blinking of his eyes flicking the rubys set within his face in and out of sight.

“No quarrel that you know.” Loki smirked back and wriggled from Thor’s embrace. “Now come you, if we should tarry who knows what half crazed plots the queen with imagine Asgard plots against her.” Loki threw their pack at Thor and whisked his way to the bifrost. Thor sighed and followed.

“Loki, you cannot dismiss me with such ease, I recall as well as you what occurred between us.” Thor called after him as Loki strode down the corridor. 

“Now is hardly the hour for such talk, or do you put a kingdom beneath your cares just to have me beneath your body?” Loki mocked and spun around never stopped in his stride, fixing his staff on his back in place before twirling back around.

“I think I would set all the realms beneath my cares for that glory.” Thor told him coming up behind him and grabbing him tight into his arms halting him.

“Well then Asgard is lucky indeed that I am of a more sensible mind.” He sighed dramatically. “It is quite the burden to be a saviour, perhaps the greatest saviour this realm has ever seen, and yet be thought of as the villain.” He hung his head slightly as if in sorrow.

“No, it is your greatest joy.” Thor laughed at the ide and Loki lifted his head to grace him with eyes glittering with amusement.

“Indeed, now come Asgard’s greatest hero in body must tarry with its greatest hero in spirit to the land of the light elves, we have lies to tell and comfort to fake.”

~~L/T~~

They had not been in the great palace of the light elves a moment when they separated, beautiful light elf mages dragging Loki away from Thor’s side with a stately valet brought Thor to the baths and set him out a soft elven tunic, a much lighter fabric than he was usually wear, the slender cut of the elven tunic biting into the girth of his arms and the neck rubbing slightly at his neck, only his princely training stopped him from tugging at the restricting fabric. It was an odd feeling to be at once so vulnerable with the soft swish of the silken threads so different from Asgard’s tough leathers and rough cloth, and yet so restrained by the tight second skin they formed. Politely Thor thanked the valet and was led with much ceremony, flanks of elves lit with sparkling silver elven armour each bowing as he passed by until a great pair of doors seemed to retreat back into themselves and let him through into the blinding hall of the elves. Everything seemed to be made of light, clear crystals absorbed all the light and refracted it over the mirror and silver surfaces until spots started to stain Thor’s sight. Thor and Loki had been to the great palace before but in the dusk of nightfall and even then they had caught but a glimpse of the queen herself. A gentle hand was laid out on his shoulder.

“The key is not to blink so much, allow yourself to adjust. Do not battle the light, but accept it.” Thor turned at Loki’s soft voice and immediately all his hesitations about the elven clothing faded to nothing. Loki was stood almost bare before him thin gossamer sheets of black the only thing that separated his sight from the rich blue plains of Loki’s skin. They trailed in long bell sleeves down past his hands but so thin and delicate that Thor thought he might break them with his gaze alone. Loki’s shoulder blades were left completely uncovered as was his collar, there seemed to be far too many layers around his groin so Thor could only assume something more substantial then the barely there whispers of fabric he wore covered his modesty. But the hem sat at his thighs leaving them open to the air or to the brush of fingers. Some clever sole had even pressed silver paint all along Loki’s raised indentations marking them out clearer and Thor felt his hand flinch to trace over them, to know them by touch once more. His eyes must have shown his appreciation for Loki’s mouth twisted into a smirk and he removed his hand. “I think the light is not your eyes most pressing problem now is it?” He teased and sashayed torturously away to lay himself down to one knee before the queen. 

All in Asgard liked often to talk of how beautiful the elves were, with their milken skin and golden hair, Thor found them dull weak looking creatures that seemed to be moved by the very air in the room. The queen was no exception. Queen Villen was beautiful in an absent way, one would struggle to find any fault with her appearance and yet there was nothing striking to her either. Even as an adult she had the body of a youth, her hips slender and unremarkable, her bust but the slightest distortion to the flat plains of her tiny chest. She looked as though one might crush her with the force of a handshake. She was clothed in a manner similar to Loki and Thor could only assume this was the mark of a mage, her thin laced sheets were white, but a shade purer than the hue of her skin. Her hair was long and golden wrapped in a braid down the right side of her head woven with all manner of trinkets that clinked and chimed as she moved. Thor noted that Loki allowed a little of his power to manifest on his hands, the slight green glow casting far in its reach over the pale coloured room. The queen looked slightly surprised and then turned to Thor who, remembering his manners, crumbled to his knee and laid out Mjolnir before him in an act of respect, his tunic pulling tightly against his back so violently he feared the seams might burst.

“Odinson.” The queen spoke in the softest weakest of tones as if she was far away or half within her own dreams. “Arise, Asgard is our friend and ally, you do not need to lower yourself here.” She told him and Thor got to his feet noting with a slight frown that Loki had not been allowed to rise. Loki however seemed perfectly calm on one knee his back bowed in a long stretch of blue, the bumps of his spine making a harsh display of his skin and Thor wished he was permitted to trace them with his mouth, to kiss each rolling bone of his beloved, the unfinished business of the day before still sitting in his mind. “Guards you may leave us.” She called with a flick of her hand and all left bar one, a sentinel behind her, Thor knew him to be her younger brother but he could not recall his name. “I hope you have goodly excuse for Asgard’s behaviour, Prince.” Her words turned suddenly harsher, a twist of her lips told of her distrust, the serene look vanished as if a light had been extinguished.

“The Odinson is a man of heroic deeds, I plea do not turn to him for an ambassadors words.” Loki entreated softly from his place on the floor, his blatant subjugation so believable that for a moment Thor wondered if this queen was to be feared, but Loki looked back and caught Thor’s eyes and offered him a small wink. Thor would learn one day when his beloved took to acting, but it appeared that day was not this one. 

“You have been in my court before.” It was an accusation and the queens brother’s hand slide to his sword at his sisters words. “You sung, a pretty tune, of the Odinson’s valour. You stepped as a lie in my court, you should submit yourself to death for such insult.” Thor’s hand went to grip his hammer but Loki just smiled.

“Forgive me, gracious queen, it was with most horrid necessity that I bore false flesh, at the time beseeching my kin with cries for peace was met as if I had bellowed half crazed riots of war. In order to do my own meagre part in ceasing the thoughtless clashing between my people and those of Asgard I had to bear falsehood. But now, joyous peace sits over our land and Asgard welcomes me, in this once cursed flesh, into its halls, calls me friend and embraces me.”

“Indeed I was most surprised to learn that Asgard and Jottenheim ceased their battles, I had through that the ragnorok would be the halting bell of that war. Peace is a most daunting task, you must be rather sure of yourself to take it up.” Loki lifted his head at her words and gave an extremely modest, and false, smile.

“Not at all. Peace could be an impossible dream, for all the realms to sit in discourse with each other, to see not enemies but fellows, and yet it is for all of us to try and reach. If in my lifetime, long as that may be, I can make but two friends from vicious enemies, I will take to my grave a contentment riches could not bring.” Loki swore, his voice gentle and tender and Thor was taken aback at how well he slipped into this roll.

“You talk of me settling my disagreements with the dark elves.” The queen stated leaning back in her chair. “You mean for me to forget all the blood shed by both, forget the harrows they brought down upon my people?”

“Nay. I ask you not to forget, nor do I even ask you to forgive. I wish for you to accept that it has happened and work so that never again may some father be taken from his family, some mother from her child, or some youth from his future by the spilling of blood for nothing more than revenge. This is not about cleaning the ledger this is about the next book’s pages laying clean.” The queen thought it over for a moment and seemed to hesitate in her answer.

“My people will not like it.” She confessed. 

“You are their queen they will like it if you do, if you show you are set upon this with true devotion the sheer tone of your voice will move them to agreement.” Loki swore. 

“What thinks your father, Odinson?” The queen asked of Thor and he saw Loki stiffen a little at the question wondering what the prince would say.

“No wants war, not even my father. Wine is more pleasing than blood.” Thor raised his head and the queen smiled back at him. 

“And knowledge is even more pleasing.” Loki hinted with a raised eyebrow, his powers flaring for one moment. The queen looked to him in surprise. “Well you are both races of magic, have you never considered how well your knowledge might blend, what you might be able to accomplish if two sides of a whole came together?” 

“I confess your words ring with truth, Jotun, give me a while with my brother and with my council, we shall feast tonight, Asgard is our friend and decency compels me.” The queen reached to her side and pulled out a small bell, jingling it once and almost immediately another valet came and smiling affably at the visitors gestured for Thor and Loki to follow him. Loki got to his feet and with a guiding hand on Thor’s forearm they walked behind the valet to a large chamber, strewn with soft pillows, to await the verdict.

~~L/T~~

Loki could feel the Odinson’s energy roiling under his skin, feel the way his sight did not so much drift over his skin as cover it, as if he could grab him but with a stare. It was not so much a surprise therefore when, as soon as they were given solitude, the Odinson’s hands gripped him tight.

“I think this outfit was made to torture me.” Thor admitted sliding his hand up the inside of Loki’s thigh clutching the gossamer up into his fist and dragging it up inch by inch until his other hand could splay over chilled blue flesh. Loki gasped underneath him, the thin sheets of the elves clothing had given him a reprieve from the heat but Thor’s hand was like a brand trailing his possession over him, too accursedly warm to ignore.

“I doubt the elves had your displeasure in mind when they altered it for me.” Loki breathed out, his own hands tight in Thor’s hair desperate to bring him closer, and he did want him closer, there was little point in denying that. And yet he had to keep some semblance of control. “The queen might have set eyes upon us.” He hissed a warning through his teeth, his thoughts becoming clouded as Thor pressed his lips to his neck, his tongue lapping against his skin so much warmer even than the burn of his hands. “It is what I would do.” Loki confessed, letting his hand claw its way into Tor’s hair in complete negation of his words.

“Let them look. I care not.” Thor’s words were a low growl, and as much as he would swear to the death they did not, their harsh tone lit something seem inside of Loki and he allowed himself to be pushed to the pillowed floor, Thor a looming shape over him, more a promise than a threat. One of the Odinson’s hands was still rested on his thigh so close to where his desire was beginning to harden shamefully. Loki ran his tongue over the dry plains of his own lips, an act so far from his purpose that it seemed born of instinct. Thor’s eyes seemed to darken as he watched him from above before pressing down and sealing their lips together. Loki could not deny that he enjoyed kissing the Odinson, the way their mouth met, warm and wet and intimate, the feel of Thor so close, so wrapped around him. The small, and utterly unhelpful, voice in the back of Loki’s mind whispered that they could be even closer, threw images of himself and the Odinson tangled in the most intimate of ways against his mind blocking off anything coherent. The thought alone made him want to push his hips up against Thor, to feel the golden prince’s arousal through the tight clothing of the elves. As if reading his thoughts Thor pushed one thigh between them and pressed it against Loki, his head fell back crunching the pillows into the floor and his neck bared in something akin to submission, and yet it did not feel much like submission, not with the way Thor stared at him, his gaze thick and unfocused, his breathing erratic and almost a struggle. Loki wondered briefly which one of them was winning and who was losing in this scenario. The thought that this might be a victory for him settled the rush of nerves and heat in Loki’s stomach and he moved to capture Thor’s mouth again, a soft slow linger thing of a kiss that seemed to stretch for eternity, until one of Thor’s hands made to pull away the thin gossamer of his robes. Loki felt the purr of encouragement vibrate through his throat and echo off the stark white walls of the elves. The thought was much like a weapons knick and it brought Loki back to where he should have been.

“We cannot.” He managed to huff pushing Thor away from him. Thor looked at him in utter confusion licking his lips automatically and Loki felt a shock of arousal at the thought of Thor tasting him on his lips that took much effort to ignore. 

“But you…” Thor gestured helplessly down to the rather embarrassing evidence of Loki enjoyment. Thor’s own bulge seemed to press up against the seams of his clothing begging for release and Loki appreciated that he must have been in some discomfort. His hands inched to sabotage his sober talk and pull Thor from his tight cloth confines to relive the ache that must he pressing against the Odinson, but he took a deep breath and forced himself to carry on.

“Indeed, and what would happen if the queen were to send for us and found us nude and entangled with each other?” Loki bit back, frustration leading him to anger, it was utterly the worst thing he could have said. Thor’s eyes darkened at the image and he moved forward again as if to make it true. Loki held him off with one hand on his chest the other soothing through his hair. “There will be time enough later, under the moon, for now we must wait.” Thor frowned at him again and seemed almost to pout. “Now, can you be trusted or do I need to remove myself to the other side of the room?” Loki asked not entirely sure that he himself could be trusted.

“I would have you near, even if I may not…” Thor looked away almost embarrassed.

“I do hope you shall be able to finish your sentences when it comes to negotiations with the queen.” Loki laughed but his heart wasn’t in it. He wanted something else, something hotter more intimate and he had the feeling the Odinson knew it. It was much harder to play his games now the Odinson had found some small spark of truth, harder but not impossible. Thor sighed and wrapped Loki up in his arms, pressing his forehand into the crook of Loki’s bare neck. Loki told himself to ignore the blissful gusts of warm air brushing over his skin, and mostly he succeeded. For what felt like days they sat not daring to so much as talk with each other until the doors swung open without warning and the valet summoned them back to eth court. Loki had never been more glad to be thrust into negotiations with a potential threat. However, something niggled at the back of his mind. He had desired the Odinson before, had been in situations much more intimate and always been able to keep himself in check, but now even as Thor’s wrist clashed accidentally against his own as they walked it took everything not to press him against the nearest wall and behave in a way most depraved. There was something else going on, he risked a glance up at Thor who was gazing back at him with dark eyes and swallowed hard trying to remember their mission as it slowly dissolved into the unimportant tasks in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry nothing really happens again but it was getting too long, and this is not going to be a lust spell or heat anything thing like that. I don't want Loki getting away with anything that easily.


	20. An unexpected heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Thor dine with the elves but soon find themselves alone for the night

Part 20 An unexplainable heat

Thor stood in the great hall of the elven queen as she stared down at them. The prince could not care in the slightest what her answer was as long as she would leave them to their peace afterwards. Loki was a pillar of temptation next to him, cool fingertips moving gently to press against his side just slightly, but enough to heat his blood to discomfort.

“I have thought over your words.” The queen glanced up at her guard, her brother, behind her. Thor watched distracted as Loki looked at the brother with a slight pinch of interest and fought down the desire to push Loki behind him so he may look on the elf no more. “Peace, it seems, is the future of the realms. We shall see what Asgard plans to do with its peace.” She glanced over at Thor once more, her eyes scrutinizing him in a way that went beyond his physicality. “You are not your father, Odinson, your rule shall be free from boredom, of that I am certain.” She told him in a soft ethereal voice that Thor tried not to be angered by. Everything within the kingdom was so temporal and insubstantial; it put the warrior prince at ill ease. 

“My father will be most pleased to hear your words; I shall carry them to him with haste.” Thor told her, though in fact he only rushed to have but a brief moment of Loki’s time once more.

“Nonsense, you must stay, already the hour grows weary and the passage to the Bifrost sits some distance away.” The queen spoke with authority and Thor felt his heart chill.

“Odinson…” Loki’s voice was insistent at his side winning his attention without pause. “…our gracious host holds out her palm in hospitality, I beg you not to scorn it in your rush.” Loki told him patiently and Thor reached out to smooth one hand down Loki’s arm, its shape not hampered in the slightest by the whisper of fabric over it. “You must forgive my prince…” Loki turned his attention to the queen and her guard with a practiced smile. “…the well-intended boot is often of a clumsy stride.” 

“Of course.” The queen agreed, smiling slightly. “My people have prepared the banquet hall, you will do me the honour of escorting me, will you not, Odinson?” The elven queen descended down the steps from her throne and offered up one pale arm to Thor who slid his own around it with the utmost care. Her limb felt like a moth’s wing in his grip and he tried his best to remember to keep his touch gentle. He glanced back to see Loki in conversation with the queens brother, quick red eyes lifted to meet his and he gave a small smile that lit Thor’s heart like nothing else. When he returned his sight to the queen he must have had a fools expression on his face by the quiet look of amusement written on her features. “He is quite a thing your Jotun.” She pointed out a little sharply.

“Loki belongs to no man.” Thor pointed out and she raised one brow as if to question him but let the statement fall in dead air.

“You should watch yourself, he is far more powerful than he appears.” She warned her voice tight and controlled. 

“Aye, Loki is a powerful mage, and a fierce warrior. I trust him with my life in any conflict.” Thor stated in defence of his beloved.

“You misunderstand me, Odinson. Loki is powerful in a way that no other I have seen is. He was obviously born with some gifts for the art and in any realm he would have been of note and merit but your Jotun uses not only the magic of ice, he shifts through all the realms collections of magic’s. You can feel them weaved together below his skin. Such a creature has no loyalties, has had more masters and more teachers than there are seeds in the ground. If you were a wise creature you would mark him and never allow him from your sight. Make of him a hunting hound and never let it slip from your thoughts the teeth it has.” With ominous words they marched into the banquet hall and sat jointly at the head of the table. Loki was placed bitterly far down, the seats on either side of him taken by the queen’s guards, her brother to his left and some other soul armoured in glittering onyx that, by the mark of familiarity on his face, Thor would bet Asgard was related to the crown. Thor tried his hardest to concentrate on the meal, the queen stood and gave a small speech to the friendships between the realm and even though she did not mention the dark elves there were many words on brotherhood and friendship that it was clear where her plans lent. Thor did try and listen but Loki was so far away, his face turned towards the queen, his eyes and a goblet of white wine lifted together to the queen’s address. As much as Thor bore his gaze into his beloved Loki gave not so much as a twitch and once the applause and cheers ended Loki’s attention was firmly back upon his newest acquaintances. Thor could not help the bite of jealousy every time Loki made one of them smile or laugh, or how with such ease they laid their hands upon his shoulders or on the slim shape of his forearm. 

~~~L/T~~~

Loki tired his best not to smirk at Thor’s obvious discomfort. The Prince had become used to others viewing Loki as nothing more than a crony of the court, precautions to separate them had never been taken before. Loki almost admired their suspicion of him. It did help that he was in amusing, if not companionable, company. The queen had placed him between her brother Kayu, a stoic young man barely out of his first hundred years, and of more wit than a man his age had right to have, and their cousin Wren, a delightful man young enough to sport only the scant beginnings of a beard but old enough to have lost the chub of boyhood. Wren had been ordered to the guard some years back, a duty that he was not bred for and not suited for, but such were the obligations of blood, Loki knew his sorrows only too well. Loki had no doubt that it was Kayu that had convinced his sister to take Loki’s offer and he made it only too clear with a low baritone grumble that he sought peace. Wren had laughed lightly, the soft tones more suited to the elves and noted that no matter what Kayu spoke it would be himself that would have to journey to the land of the dark elves should negotiations begin. Kayu had ignored him, in a way that one only can with family or very close friends.

“I have heard a dozen tales of you, Jotun.” Kayu told him speaking into his wine glass so that his voice echoed from the silver cup. Loki had noted that his birth seemed to be the favoured way in which to try and make him feel lesser than. He found it rather amusing. 

“Oh yes?” Loki asked pleased and Wren leaned around in interest.

“Yes, I fear a thousand dark deeds have been laid at your feet.” Kayu accused, his pale blue eyes boring holes into Loki’s face. Loki however just grinned. 

“If I were guilty of every sin laid before me, never would I find the hours to sleep or eat or even read a book.” Loki laughed at the thought, he had heard nearly every tale told about him, had invented most of them himself, but it always pleased him when some poor soul decided to believe them all.

“So you are not the wicked thing I have been told of?” Kayu asked bluntly.

“Of course I am. What better way to hide my sins. Every day I am accused of a hundred dark deeds, so many that to look into each would be a fools task, the same way one might hide a scrap of silver in a field of steel my true crimes go unheeded.” Loki told him with a smirk. Kayu frowned at him in utter incomprehension.

“Know that while you are here my eye in cast over you, even if it be a ‘fools task’ I will turn my gaze to each of your crimes and if I should find but one true I shall bring you to rights.” He swore.

“I look forward to you trying.” Loki replied with a nod of his head. Next to him Wren laughed and slung his arm around Loki’s shoulder.

“Oh no, Loki-friend, you should be most afeared for you have awoken my sweet cousin’s curiosity.” He told him with a boyish cuff around to his arm as he released him.

“Why is it that this word has become a warning? Curiosity is not a thing to be feared, it is not some prelude to violence, it is interest and a search for better understanding of another. I welcome this curiosity, and I shall try my best to keep you entertained while I am your guest.” Loki declared with a flourish lifting his glass high. Wren joined him immediately and then with a small somewhat reluctant grin Kayu lifted his glass as well and three perfect bowls of silver chimed together between them. After that the talk became mush more pleasing, Kayu was well versed in the history of the stars, their birth and deaths, a subject Loki was rather ignorant over and was happy with the offer of a few of the elven texts on the matter. Wren had a thousand tales from his garrison, and told them with an ease that made Loki mourn his lose to the world as a soldier. In turn they sat and listened to Loki spin his own tales, chiming in with thoughts and questions which Loki was only too happy to answer. Loki had hardly noted the surrounding diners get to their feet and the slow music start around them. He was however happy to watch as Thor sat glaring at him from the other side of the room, his bright blue eyes a beacon of colour in the subdued tones of the elves. He gifted his prince with a quick and far too honest smile.

“Your Prince seems a goodly fellow.” Wren complimented and Loki could not tear his eyes away from Thor, memories of those hands upon him threatened to burn at his skin. “I had heard much of him before you came, all of it praise.” Thor seemed to notice the heat in Loki’s eyes and sat up straighter in his seat, the petulant look of an ignored child sliding off his features and soon he stared back with obvious intent.

“Aye, the queen has taken no King, perhaps she and Thor would be well met?” Kayu mused idly. Loki lifted from his seat and grinned at how Thor jumped at his movement.

“Nay, the queen cannot have him.” The two elves looked slightly insulted at Loki’s words and opened their mouths to defend their queen but Loki just continued to speak. “No one can have him for he is already mine.” The two elves watched in surprise as Thor stood to his feet, whispered a few words to the queen and then strode over to Loki, taking his hand in his own.

“Come, Loki, shall we retire?” He asked, the prince’s meaning obvious and for once Loki could not bring himself to chastise him for his blunt wording.

“Indeed.” Loki purred back pressing his side to Thor’s so that their arms slid against each other. “Good night, gentlemen.” Loki muttered, and bowed just slightly to his dinner companions before allowing Thor to guide him from the room and to their chambers, following the direction a startled valet managed to stammer.

~~~L/T~~~

Thor was surprised when Loki allowed himself to be guided to their chamber, and more so when Loki shut the door behind them and turned to Thor with such affections that he never thought to see written so plain upon his beloveds face.

“You seemed to have made merry acquaintance at the feast.” Thor muttered suddenly feeling nervous as if unsure as so how to turn sweet fantasy into unquestionable reality. Loki blinked at him in disbelief.

“You wish to discuss the feast?” Loki asked slowly as if making sure he had not misheard. “You ushered me into privacy to give talk as if we sat in full view?” His arms crossed over his chest for a moment before he let them relax and crossed the distance between them to lay out his hand on Thor’s chest. The Prince’s hand clenched at his sides, the desire to just grab at Loki, to take, to seek out his pleasure with that walking temptation before him nearly destroying all other thought but this was Loki and Thor would not take what was not offered freely. 

“I thought there was little you enjoyed as much as talk.” Thor tried to joke, to break the pressure between them, but Loki just grinned wickedly and that smile, that dark violent lift of lips and gleam of tooth, would never fail to light his desires.

“As clasped hands often end conflict with more grace than words so too might lips be turned to more pleasing tasks that talk.” Loki whispered and the hand not on Thor’s chest curled up to the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss. Thor could not hold back the groan of pleasure that rumbled through his throat as he kissed Loki. The elven food and wine was so weak in taste that it did nothing to mute Loki’s own flavour and Thor found himself pushing open Loki’s lips with his own and lapping at the essence of him. With heroic effort Thor forced himself to pull back and stare at Loki who fixed him with a dark look before running his tongue over his own lips, blood filling to swell from the force of their kiss. 

“Tell me, what has moved you to this?” Thor asked breathlessly hoping for some answer that he might always have Loki as he was in that moment, that he might find a way to ever bind those sinful fingers to his frame.

“Moved me? Perhaps I am but done with movement and we find your chase is over.” Loki smiled and then something halted him. “Are you so displeased with your catch?” He asked. Thor could not help but drag Loki in towards him, to place kisses on his lips, his cheeks, his brow.

“Think yourself not a catch.” He pleaded to Loki. “You are not some rare beast trapped for a banquet, nor some sweet spoil of victory that I might boast on till I am grey. If I have you it is not because you are won like some reward. You are Loki, the sum of my own pleasure, and I deny you nothing.” He kissed Loki’s lips softly pulling back when Loki pressed for more. Loki growled low at him and gripped him tight, sliding one leg between Thor’s and pushed their bodies tight together, the curve of his thigh finding and rubbing teasingly over Thor’s sex until he hissed and clutched at Loki seeking more.

“Then do not deny me this.” Loki whispered into his ear before reclaiming his lips and pushing him towards the bed. Loki’s hands were quick and efficient, his nimble fingers sought and found each hidden clasp, each interwoven lace, on Thor’s elaborate elven tunic and soon he had it free enough to push off Thor, leaving his chest bare. Loki held him back for a moment to stare at him, to run his hands over his chest, to lean forward and rain kisses over his chest, to nip at his skin and slide the pads of his digits over the jut of his ribs, down the plains of his stomach and down further to cup his sex through his hose. Thor breathed hard and pulled at Loki trying to find the opening of Loki’s own ridiculous tunic, but wherever he traced the fold of an opening back to it always disappeared into more folds and left his clumsy hands struggling against the urge to simply rip the cursed item from his lover’s body. Loki snarled at him and shoved him aside, for one torturous moment he feared that this moment of inelegance would break Loki of his decision but instead Loki let his eyes burn green for just a moment and then the thin gossamer sheets exploded into flames, burning away to nothing more than ash fluttering like snow to the ground around them. Thor smiled at Loki, unable to resist sliding his eyes slowly down over Loki’s exposed form, utterly bared to him.

“I think our hosts will be most displeased to find your scorn of their gift.” Thor muttered, his voice far rougher than he usually sounded, caught as he was in a snare of lust. Loki merely laughed and crossed the finally meager distance to the bed, crawling backwards until his back met the wall.

“Let them grouse and gripe at me, let them nip at my heels in demand for answer, it kept me from what I wanted.” Loki dipped his eyes obviously, trailing them over Thor’s remaining clothes as if they were a personal affront to him. “A sin you are guilty of as well I fear.” Thor needed no further encouragement and hastily pushed the remaining clothes away from himself, tripping slightly as the tapered ends of the hose became trapped by his feet. Once freed he climbed onto the bed laying out on top of Loki pressing every inch of naked flesh against his beloveds. Loki made a breathy noise in the back of his throat at the contact and reached for him to demand a kiss. Thor was only too happy to surrender. Loki’s body moved under his own ceaselessly, grinding up to meet his own, the hairless plains of his body sending nothing but smooth skin over his. Fingers traveled up and down his skin, tracing the lines of his muscles, spreading his digits wide and clutching at his buttocks, worming their way into Thor’s hair at the back of his neck to keep him just where he wanted. Thor could do little to reciprocate, his own hands immobilised to hold himself from crushing Loki, but he could grind down his hips to meet Loki, their sexes pressing tight against each other, each thrust making Loki make that tight breathless noise that seemed to vibrate through Thor’s entire body. Thor felt that should he be called to Valhalla at that moment he would go in utter contentment, but it seemed the writhing body under him was not so satisfied. 

Loki pushed him away a small distance, his hands lingering on his chest tracing patterns over his skin then as if he could not help himself lifting his head and pressing his lips to Thor’s neck, nipping over his skin lightly before sliding out the hot wet flesh of his tongue to trace over Thor’s skin. At first it seemed nothing but nonsensical lapping until a certain flick and curve seemed so familiar that it woke Thor from his revelry with a shudder. Loki, his beloved dark creature, was licking ruins onto his skin. He could not help the growl that flooded his throat and Loki merely chuckled under him. Thor pushed him back and began his own claim of Loki’s flesh. Sweat slicked the blue skin below him making the silver embellishments sludge as his fingers rubbed over them until it was nothing more than a shimmer over the true blue colour of Loki’s skin. Long bare legs slid from under him and wrapped obscenely around his waist dragging them closer, pushing their sexes to rub against each other as Loki bucked up under him. Thor could feel the tension start to grow too much and the thought of coming slick between them, his own spill painting over Loki’s blue canvas was almost too much, but then Loki wriggled under him shifting until he turned around pressing his ridged back against Thor’s chest and pushing back up to brush over Thor’s cock with the round curve of his buttocks. Thor groaned at the implication, it was true that he had dreamed of such things, of taking his pleasure deep within Loki’s crafty body, but he had never thought Loki would offer himself up with such ease. 

“Loki…” Thor huffed out in disbelief, cast into doubt as to what Loki truly meant by such an act. Loki however seemed to have it all settled and reached back to take one of Thor’s hands in his grip. Slowly, and with red eyes focused intently on Thor’s he pushed three of Thor’s fingers over the blue lines of his lips into the warm cavern of his mouth. Thor was reminded instantly of Loki on his knees sucking his length into that tight hot hole and it was almost too much. Loki’s tongue thoroughly wet Thor’s digits humming contently around them until with a lewd pop he released them and turned back around to face the bed. Thor swallowed and trailed his wet hand down to the base of Loki’s spine. With the other he stroked over Loki’s behind, marveling at how soft the skin was, trailing over the raised markings that decorated even there. His weight was on his own legs lifting away from Loki entirely to not burden him with his bulk. Slowly he circled Loki’s puckered hole and sunk his finger in just to the nail and then paused. Loki tensed under him, could see it in the arch of back, in the way his hands bunched the sheets below them and Thor gave him a moment to relax. When he felt the tension ebb from Loki’s shoulders he pressed in further up to his knuckle. Soon he was able to push his finger all the way to the webbing with little resistance, and shortly after he added another finger, and then another. All the while he watched, entranced, as Loki’s body swallowed him up, sucking tightly around his fingers, squeezing them in, and his sex burnt between his legs at the thought of being inside his beloved. Finally when Loki seemed to almost shift into his touch Thor deemed him ready, however he knew that the simple slick of saliva would never be enough to ease the push of his sex into Loki’s tight channel without pain. Clumsily he looked about in desperation before his gaze settled on a vial of oil used by soldiers to grease skin worn to sourness by armor. Moving away from Loki as little as he could he fetched it and returned slicking his cock liberally with the clean smelling oil and pouring more over Loki’s entrance Thor had to take a deep calming breath before positioning himself correctly and pressing in. With a little give Loki’s body swallowed the head of his sex, gripping him tight enough to send shivers of pleasure all through him. Slowly, tortuously so, he pushed into Loki until his pelvis touched Loki’s backside. He gave a low moan with the pleasure of it all and then began to take up a rhythm.

~~~L/T~~~

Loki felt like he was being split in two. He bit down hard on his lips to stop from screaming his pain and his every muscle shivered with want to push Thor away. Thor’s thick rough fingers inside him had not been arousing but they had not hurt as this did. It had been, if anything, relaxing, after a while, but the moment that Thor breached him a hot white pain erupted through him and now each thrust seemed to send that pain deeper through him. His sex was entirely wilted under him and he was glad he had chosen this position for that very reason. This was not for him, he was Loki, he felt no lust, whatever strange force grappled with him, lit his blood and made him almost incensed with want, could not combat this pain, he was sure of it. When all this was over, the Odinson would have his release and Loki could keep his pride, could smile smugly at the Odinson and look down on him as a base creature of want. Thor shifted his weight behind Loki and he flinched as he felt it tug on him inside as if Thor was a huge lance of wood rooted inside him immobilising him on the bed, but then as Thor slide back in something changed. Loki reared back, his back pulling taught as Thor’s cock rubbed hard against something inside of him, something that sizzled through him in pleasure, pleasure far greater than he had ever felt before with his hand upon himself. He pushed back into that feeling, needing to feel it once more, just one more time. The pain dissolved as Thor kissed his neck and once more pushed into that spot. Loki’s mouth opened in a gasp that might have been Thor’s name before falling into babble.

“There! More.” He demanded with a voice that scarcely sounded his own. “I swear if you do not I will…” But Thor complied before Loki even had to dream up an end to his threat. Blood flooded into his cock and it hung heavy between his legs rocked by the rough and perfect motions of Thor behind him. Suddenly he could feel everything, before the pain of being torn open had masked the blissful caresses of Thor’s hand up his side, the press of lips to his neck all entwining together with the sparks of pleasure every time Thor’s sex pushed against that place within him.

“Loki…”Thor’s voice sounded strangled behind him. “I’m…I do not know how much longer I can…” The Odinson seemed to plead with him.  
“You will not dare until I am finished with you.” Loki bit back his voice far too breathless to sound threatening but Thor seemed to take it to heart and one of his hands snuck around Loki’s slender frame to grip his cock, his hand stroking clumsily over it. If it was any other time Loki was sure to have sharp words for the ill-coordinated pumps of the hand over him, but at that moment it felt like ultimate pleasure. Before he even could realise what it was that was happening to him Loki’s neck bent backwards making rough contact with Thor’s large shoulder and he yelled out Thor’s name repeating it a hundred times under his breath as pure sweet pleasure overtook him and he spent himself upon the bed marking Thor’s fingers with his seed. The prince behind him stiffened and he cursed low before gripping Loki’s hips with both hands, grinding his sex as deep within Loki as he could and then flooding him with his own release. Thor panted against his back for a moment and Loki could feel the erratic beating of the Asgardian’s heart through his skin. Slowly he was released and Thor slipped from him leaving an absence that felt in complete conflict with anything Loki had ever known before. Loki slumped forward on the bed, the muscles of his body too worn to do much else. He felt Thor join him collapsing onto the bed besides him, fumbling with uncoordinated fingers for the thin sheet to cover them both. Wiggling in close to press as much of his overheated skin to Loki’s as he could. Loki was too tired to argue against it and instead merely flicked one hand absently to wash away the mess they had made, no matter how fatigue he was Loki was not in the habit of taking slumber in his own seed. Thor’s lips made their way over his neck sleepily before a huge arm tugged him in close.

“I love you, Loki.” He swore and Loki stiffened slightly in his grasp before closing his eyes and let exhaustion excuse him from not answering back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me far too long to write, sorry, I'm still not totally happy with it but I'm hoping things will get better the more i get into the swing of writing explicit stuff again because from this point onwards it's probably going to stay pretty R-rated


	21. Unhappy with pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki seeks to find a reason for his desires and spends a little time conspiring

Part 21 Unhappy with pleasure

Loki stirred towards wakefulness; the sun was piercing through the thin gossamer of the elven curtains and laid out warm and irritating over his eyes. Something warm wrapped around him like a cocoon and yet he felt no immediate desire to rip himself free of it. Some little voice in the back of his mind warned him in dry tones not to take to waking, that it would only bring him trouble. Loki ignored it and opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was Thor. It would have been an impossible feat not to notice the Odinson for he slumbered on directly in his sight with not even enough space between them to pass a beam of light. All at once the dire consequences of the night before flooded through Loki, the kisses, the touches, the bedding. The heat of shame lit up his skin and he scrambled messily to distance himself. A throbbing pain erupted down his back and deep within himself as he got to his feet unsteadily. He rounded on the Odinson to spit his fury at the barbarian but halted himself in time. His shame was too great to have the Prince look upon him. With a wave of his hand he soothed his aches and clothed himself in a more modest tunic of the lightest of cottons and fled the room. Not knowing where he was to go next he let his feet guide him without thought and ended up in the vast gardens of the elves. The sight was spectacular. Everywhere the eye turned the light hit some glittering surface, plants entwined themselves so thoroughly with the quartz like crystals sprouting from the soil that one could barely name which was which. Low hanging blossoms opened under the sight of the eye, prideful tinkling flowers that seemed to preen under Loki’s watch.

“Ah, Loki-friend.” Loki turned to see Wren, his armour dusted lightly with pollen from the overflowing bouquet in his arms. In Asgard such a sight would bring ridicule but the elves judged the acts or the sexes rather differently to the other realms. “How do you like our gardens?” He asked his arms flinching as he sought to gesture but was hampered by his load. 

“They are most pleasing.” Loki agreed with a smile. 

“You should see them in the winter when the moonflowers blossom. Most think them only of use in the craft but if one has patience to wait until the winter moon hits than you are rewarded by such a sight of beauty.” The elf sighed. “This year in all likelihood I shall be in the land of the dark elves, I shall miss the flowers.” He mused.

“Such is the burden of blood.” Loki agreed solemnly pressing the gentle tips of blue fingers to the soft flesh of a flower hanging above them.

“It is not my place to question…” Wren started but Loki laughed.

“It is every man’s place to question.” He turned his eyes upon Wren with firm intent. “There are certain things that bind a man, duty, honour, desire, but even an act we feel ourselves enchained to we are free to stop and demand a simple ‘why’ of our masters. As long as we have mouths for words we can question all.” Loki told him. 

“My family would be displeased…”

“Oh how we all care for our families displeasure. Each and every one of us seeking nothing but our ‘families pleasure’. How amusing it is that often none consider the pleasure of those being cast into roles without their will. Are they not part of the family? How is their pleasure so easily cast away for others? And who decided which members must be appeased? Is age enough alone to demand obedience as if merely surviving through years rewards one with power over others? Or it is those with the greatest title? For surely with one’s own blood is the only time a man might be freed of his denotations?” Loki asked him and Wren stared at him a moment before breaking into laughter.

“You are a wicked thing are you not?” He asked in a chuckle. “How many have you turned away from kin and kind with your words?” Loki smirked back more and more pleased with the elf.

“I cannot recall, how many stars are in the sky?” Loki smiled, Wren stared at him a moment.

“Something is happening between the realms, I know not wither you are its creator or merely conductor but I am not blind enough to miss that you are at the centre of all that is happening. Tell me, Loki-friend, how may a simple soldier assist you?” He asked his eyes earnest. Loki grinned and pulled one of the flowers from Wren’s bunch, twisting it in his hand until it glazed over with liquid silver immortalised in a moment forever.

“You will be in the land of the dark elves, if anything should chime out of key you will let me know, and you will let me know first.” Loki told him with the voice of a master.

“You wish for a spy?” Wren seemed surprised and for a moment Loki wondered if he had misgauged the creature. “I half thought you would give me a list of those whose life no longer suited your means.” Wren laughed.

“And deny myself the pleasure? Nay.” Loki scoffed. “And these dark ways do not sit against your consequence?”

“Nay, you forget I was not born for the noble life of a soldier, I think you seek peace, and I think you are in the habit of getting what you want.” Wren told him awkwardly taking back his silver flower from Loki’s hands.

“Indeed I am.” Loki cheerfully agreed. Suddenly a thought, an excuse something muttered in the back of his mind, came to him and he stayed Wren with one hand. “Tell me there are so many flowers here, are some of them known to have side effects?” he asked.

“Oh, all.” Wren answered simply. “There is not a blossom in this garden that does not make itself a thing of use once dried, or burnt.”

“Indeed, most I know…” Loki mused his hands trailing over the blossoms in Wren’s arms. “Liricus, a poison makes as if one sleeps, Erial used for prophesies such as they are ever worth the time, Shade blossom for dipping blades into…but could one incense the blood?” Wren looked at him in confusion.

“Tigerspear induces fever…but if you mean…well there is but one that does as I think you mean and that is Suitor’s touch. It was given to young virgin maidens when they wed lest fear and inexperience rob them of the glory of their first nuptial joining. Why?” He asked with such naked curiosity that Loki knew him no part of the plot. Loki just waved him off with a neglectful hand.

“Thank you, Wren, you have been of most great assistance.”   
~~~L/T~~~  
“Get up!” Thor had not expected Loki to lay and let Thor pet and take joy in him, but even still he was surprised with the harsh nature of his waking. The prince of Asgard lifted open his eyes and found Loki, not nestled next to him as was his place but stood at the end of the bed, piteously clothed with his hands upon his hips, a two small vials clutched in his right hand. “You great contemptuous oaf get you from your rest at once!” Loki demanded and Thor looked at him before pouting.

“Come, my beloved…” Thor moved forward to his knees crawling to the foot of the bed and pulling Loki towards him, the sheets slipped and pooled over his thighs but it was of little consequence, for bare skin was no shame in the sight of his most cherished. “…it is custom to spend a moment or two basking in the joy of union.” Sat as he was on his knees upon the bed Thor could press his face into Loki’s chest and breathe deeply of his lover. “You smell of flowers and the sun.” He noted. “What could have taken you from me with such haste?” Thor asked nuzzling against the shape of Loki’s chest under his thin tunic.

“We have been poisoned.” Loki claimed solemnly. “This sick desire is nothing more than alchemy, one I now seek to end.” Thor pulled back a little and chuckled at Loki who glared back at him with the grim set face of the dead.

“What madness is this?” He asked.

“Do you not feel it?” Loki demanded of him his eyes searching Thor’s desperately. “Is it not nearly enough to drive you to distraction?” His voice was almost a plea and Thor noticed for the first time how Loki’s gaze flicked down over his body, tracing over him, forcibly jerking away every time his sight lingered too near Thor’s naked lap as if he was overcome with some tick. Thor grinned to himself and shifted slightly knowing that Loki would watch.

“This is what calls you to claim poison?” Thor asked lowly, trailing his hands over Loki’s frame, feeling him shudder under him. “This is no poison, nor is it alchemy, this is lust. If this truly be a poison than it is you that has poisoned me for I have been suffering for the moment our eyes met. And haply will I stay sick of this ill.” Loki pushed him away, his face tight and controlled.

“Drink of this.” Loki bit out and forced a vial into Thor’s hand, pulling the stopper from one himself and steadying his nerve with a deep breath. 

“If I drink it all and still ache for you will you come back to bed?” Thor asked and Loki merely rolled his eyes.

“Even if this is not some enchantment, we are here for diplomacy, perhaps a sword would have been a more apt weapon for you than your hammer.” Loki scoffed and swallowed the contents of the vial his mouth pulled tight in disgust. Thor viewed his own with trepidation before succumbing to Loki’s darkened look and emptying the vial. The taste was bitter in his mouth as if it had once held sweetness of a fruit but rotted with putrefaction. But it was done.

“There, satisfied?” Thor asked as he looked over Loki once again. If Loki had expected Thor’s desire for Loki to dampen than he was mistaken. His beautiful dark creature still held all his enchantment to Thor, the blue of his skin, the red of his eyes, the fine elegant features of Loki. “And I fear I want you just the same.” He admitted with a smile and watched Loki falter for a moment. 

“Get you dressed, there will be talk if you stay abed so late.” Loki whispered and turned to leave.

“What of you, Loki, has that vile substance lifted the veil from your desire for me?” He asked quietly, Loki turned to him a look of mild panic over his face.

“Get you dressed.” Was all he spoke and left.  
~~~L/T~~~  
Loki sat stewing in the library. As distant as the library of the elves was from his own collection in Asgard there was something familiar and calming about the lines of parchment around him, the smell of dusty volumes and the slight damp decay of water on scroll. Loki could not understand what had gone wrong. He may not be the most suited to potion work, he usually found it too distant and unsatisfying, but he knew enough to craft correct and yet the potion had failed to work. The sight of the Odinson clothed in but a snatch of cloth and the morning light had tugged at his desires. It had been all he could do not to push him back upon that bed and join him once more. He shook himself of his failure and scored the shelves for what he was looking for.

“Loki?” Kayu’s voice was surprised, Loki noted how it made his voice drift up in octaves slightly distanced from the baritone of the night before. “I would have never thought you guilty of the sin of impatience.” He mocked lightly. Kayu did not have Wren’s light nature but he was still a merry chap even if he was sparse with his smiles. “I came here to find you the scrolls you asked after, but I find you have beaten me to the search of them.”

“Nay, I come for a different text.” Loki assured him and Kayu relaxed. 

“A relief indeed, I had thought you assumed me to neglect my offer to you. I would not wish to offend a creature such as you.” He hinted at his knowledge of what Loki was.

“Offend away, when one is such as I you hear a thousand insults upon your person each hour. If offence was enough to wither me or raise me to anger well I would be but a wrinkled thing and hardly a creature would live in all the realms.” He laughed. 

“Still, it would demean me to seem to offend.” Kayu told him and searched out for the scrolls.

“’Seem’ I am aghast as to why every creature I met in the realms insists upon that which ‘seems’ and yet denies that we are but vessels of our display, as if the two thoughts were not exclusive of each other. ‘seem to offend.’” Loki scoffed loudly. “ Why there is no such thing. Either one means to offend or one does not. If I should think you mean to offend me when in fact you mean no such slight, well then it is my own disservice for ill thought to your words, and such I would be deserving of your offence. A man should have wit enough to know that he is being called a fool or else he makes of himself one.” Loki stated with a grin, drinking in the look of mild confusion on Kayu’s face.

“True enough I suppose.” He eventually spoke and sifted through the volumes quickly, with the speed of habit before handing them to Loki who tucked them beneath his arm. 

“Now, those are the texts I promised to you, perhaps I might assist you in the others you wished for?”

“Indeed, I wish to view any scrolls with stories of enemies of Asgard.” He asked scanning the shelves with a quick gaze.

“You wish to know who is most likely to take up arms against Asgard?” Kayu asked and Loki gifted him with a small nod. “Well, that is a well-known answer, you need look no further than your own flesh, for no realm has battled with Asgard as much as Jottenheim.”

“Indeed, and peace was hard enough to graft between the two I will not have any other realm tear it asunder. For as long as there is peace there will be some thick sighted fool who sees more profit in war.” Kayu took in Loki’s words and gave a reluctant show of agreement.

“Well then I fear I may name every realm Asgard has ever had dealings with. It is a sad fact, Yggdrasil’s branches link us for fortune and for despair and in our long histories there is not a realm that has not laid arms against each other.” He shrugged and Loki felt himself sag. Whatever force it was that moved against the Odinson could come from any branch of the great tree and he was no closer to finding his target than he had ever been. 

“I thank you for your assistance, might I be permitted the honour of usurping this fine library for my means?”

“I will ask but I am sure the scholars with not mind leaving you to your study, Loki-friend.” Kayu left Loki to the rows of books, the Jotun stared out at them his quick eyes flickering over every title wondering how many would get his attention that day. With a sigh he began his labour.  
~~~L/T~~~  
Thor had left Loki to this thoughts for most of the day. The queen had called for him to be present at breakfast and lunch and he had been forced to sit in dreary mutterings as the queen moved through the various ceremonies of the elves. Loki’s presence, conspiratory and distracting would have been a joyful respite but alas he was nowhere to be seen. Even though the hour was still young Thor found himself growing weary as the ceremonies continued. After some while the queen’s brother took pity on him and asked casually if he might care to drag Loki from the library where he had taken refuge. Thor agreed in an instant near forgetting to beg directions.   
The library was much larger than that of Asgard, and the books were kept in better order Thor noted with a pang of regret, for surely his beloved would wish for such splendour over what Thor had offered to him. 

“Of course you would seek me out.” Loki’s voice came from behind him, sharp and quick and Thor spun to see Loki standing with a book spread over his palms its full attention on his sight even as he addressed Thor. “I had just found myself in pleasing company and now you blunder in to tear me from my work.”

“Pleasing company? You stand alone.” Thor whispered in confusion.

“Exactly, what company could be more pleasing?” He grinned, his eyes never leaving the text.

“I agree, if it were choice I would scorn all company other than yours.” Thor told him sincerely. Loki flinched for a moment before huffing in irritation. Thor ventured closer until he could read the spine of Loki’s book. It was a book of accounts between Asgard and Alfheim. Thor could not help the bark of laughter at that.

“Are you reading through their accounts, Loki? Do you seek to ferret out some hoarded gold?” Thor asked moving close enough that he might look over Loki’s shoulder, he could barely concentrate on the yellowing pages though with the temptation of Loki’s skin so near.

“I am taking stock of the first battle between the Vanir and Asgard, Alfhiem gave to Asgard several weapons of great power, I believe this aided them greatly.” Loki explained tersely.

“If you wished for that tale I could have recounted it for you. Father tells it a dozen times a year when the mead is upon him. There is even a collection named the Voluspa, crafted by some bard. Why? Do you think to tell it tonight for the elves? If so I beg for you to reconsider. I find it much more pleasing to hear you sing of my own victories.” Thor dragged Loki’s body up against his own, feeling Loki tense for a moment before he relaxed into the embrace, his back against Thor’s chest tight enough that the Jotun’s heartbeat echoes through the Odinson’s chest.

“I have played at bard enough times to not trust a lick of your Voluspa. Besides is it not prudent to seek to know how Asgard has bested its foes?” Loki asked turning his head to stare at Thor. With one quick motion Thor turned them pinning Loki’s back to the bookcases, his hands tight on the illusive creature’s forearms, his neck close to it Loki’s neck, breathing in the winter fresh smell of him. 

“I think it is prudent to have you near me at all times.” He whispered to Loki, shifting to slide one leg between Loki’s own. The Jotun allowed the motion spreading his legs just a fraction to make space. “Or is it that this room reminds you of your own sanctuary in Asgard? We have been like this in that room also.” Thor reminded him and was pleased to hear the tight gasp of air in his lovers throat, to feel his skin turn clammy with the heat of being pressed together under his fingers. “I wanted you so much in that moment; you looked a treat pressed up against the books. I would have taken you there too if we had not been interrupted. How glorious it would have been to have you there in that room, never would you have been able to so much as glance at the written word and not think of me plying you with pleasure. And you would have allowed me to take you, would you not have Loki?” Thor whispered hotly in Loki’s ear. The Jotun shifted his face a little and tilted in a wordless offer. Thor touched their lips together softly, gently ignoring the way Loki moved forward against him begging for more even though it pulsed a dark heat through him. “Now my beloved, are you finished with crazed talk of poison? Are you finished with hiding yourself away from me in dusty rooms? Come all I seek for now is your company.” Thor told him earnestly pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes to bask in the way Loki’s arms once freed sought to wrap themselves around his frame. 

“You will be king soon, Odinson.” Loki reminded him sternly, and Thor could see the fog lift over his beloved and settle into grim thoughts once more. “The crown of Asgard is a lofty goal and those who seek it will not hesitate to take your head with it.” Loki told him.

“That is what has you fretting?” Thor laughed, almost regretting it as Loki’s face set darkly at his amusement. “Loki, I am Thor of Asgard, men quiver at the sound of my name. I have taken to battle more times than most men have taken to drink. And I have at my side the most wonderfully wicked and ingenious creature as my advisor and consort. Let the hordes come against me, they will be as nats to a bull.” Thor proclaimed. Loki looked unimpressed at his words and shifted away from him.

“Do you not remember how eager I was to face the great serpent? Why that dragon when there are hundreds of serpents lining the branches of Yggdrasil? Because it is so well known. We made a name for you in one blow, hundreds of years of that monster’s savagery became owned by you in one defeat. The more men quiver at your name the more you make a pleasing boast for the one who will best you.” Loki pointed out. “And if I am this clever witted creature with mind enough to form as a shield it is because I have taken to books as I do now.” Loki scowled deeply at Thor. “I have taken to this game of villainy because it was the only way to keep myself from death all these years. I stand before you because I play it well, but I am not of such thick wit that I do not know there is someone out there with more skill than I, just waiting to come against me. None of us should be without fear, Odinson. If your knife should fail against a knights armour there is poison for his cup. For the man surrounded with a shield of fellows then coin can turn a friend into a weapon. Even a crown can be a guillotine.” Loki told him with dark intent. “I have thrown in my lot with you Odinson, I will not have you make an easy target of yourself.” Thor’s frown softened. Much of Loki’s words confused him, for Asgard was free of enemies, and besides it had been a millennia since any foe entered the palace.

“I know you seek to protect me Loki and I am grateful. But I have faith in you; I wish you would do the same.” Thor pulled Loki’s hand up to his lips and kissed at his knuckles. “Now come, I am sure the elves have many a tedious ceremony for us to watch and if I am to endure them you shall as well.” Thor led Loki by the hand out of the room. The Jotun complied abandoning his book as he went. Thor wished that he could smooth out the worries in his lovers mind, but he knew not why Loki was so adamant to see foes when the future seemed only bright and clear. Thor swore to himself that when he was king he would sit in a land of such peace that even Loki would see no threat. With that thought in mind even the dull ways of the elves seemed brighter.


	22. Back to buisness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dwarves come and Loki has some bad blood with the leader

Part 22 Back to business

Loki was being exceptionally impolite and he knew it. He knew he was wrong to act so childish and every bit the fool he accused Thor of being, but he could not sit at dinner with the King and Queen of Asgard knowing what it was he wished from their son. Loki had excused himself from the Odinson’s presence as soon as they had returned to Asgard and then for three days made quite a fuss of keeping himself alone. He had forsaken the library and the council meetings, stealing away into whatever hidden rooms he suspected would be left unsearched by the prince of Asgard. He had relegated himself now to some unsavoury tavern frequented by the servants of the palace. It was damp and stank of sweat, the patrons sat far too close to each other and as much as he pulled his cloak up he could not block entirely the barbarous sights of the Asgardians making merry around him. But he knew if he returned to the palace and Thor was to come across him he would allow him to touch, would welcome it even, maybe even plead for it, and Loki was not such a weak creature. 

Attraction, arousal these were the weakness of lesser creatures, he was Loki of Jottenheim, the wily little bloody monster he had crafted himself as. He wondered idly if this was some late blossoming trait of himself awoken by the physicality of the Odinson. There was nothing innately wrong with desire as long as one could maintain focus even in its throws. There seemed to be no reason why it was the Odinson who had ensnared his attention. Many of the Asgardians shared his appearance in one way or another, the broad shoulders, the golden hair, the sun kissed skin. It was no fault of Loki that these were obviously his preferences. With wary eyes he scanned the tavern and found without effort six men of approximately Thor’s build and with his colourings. He stared at them from the shadows of his cloak, the Odinson’s cloak, and wondered if he might seduce one of them. He mused over what it would be like to press against a muscular form that was not Thor’s. A shudder of disgust washed through him at the very idea and he sighed and resigned himself to his cowardly hiding until this unthinkable weakness had passed. Loki settled himself with bitter vinegary wine and his own roiling thoughts. 

Just because Loki had not allowed the Odinson to catch so much as a glimpse of him did not mean that he had not allowed himself to gaze at Thor. Loki had laid in shade and watched as Thor practised with his weapons, sparring with his fellows. He implored his shadow friend to follow the Odinson and in the guise of the councillor he had once been to ask after his health. There was barely a second of any given day that was not filled to distraction with thoughts of the Odinson, and the more Loki thought on him the more he wished to go to him. He wanted to sit by the side as he sparred and call out purposefully ambiguous and misleading advice to Thor and his companions to see the flash of irritation burn hot in Thor’s eyes. He wanted to dine with him and chastise him fondly for his rough manners at the table. He wanted to brush their skin together innocently as they sat close under the light of the day. And he wanted to brush their skin together in the dark in a way that was far from innocent. But he was stubborn and whatever it was that drew him towards the Odinson was nothing against his own will. 

By the fourth day he began to scheme against himself, struggling to find some excuse that would allow him all he wanted without giving anything of himself away. He tried to tell himself that he was using the Odinson, abusing his affections to get what he wanted, power and influence. But if that was true he would be simpering at the Allfathers heels and not burning a rift between father and son. Loki knew his own potential, knew that if he had but spoken the right words he could have gained the Allfathers trust, could have secured his future by being named Thor’s regent and he might have eventually usurped the crown altogether from the Prince. He might even had taken himself away from Asgard, with the changes in power things were more interesting politically in the realm of the dark elves, and his ways would have been more widely accepted. Besides, he had been in schemes his own life and never once even thought of using such methods. It was then that it struck him, this was, if nothing else, a learning experience. Loki had never known anything of physical relations asides from the rudimentary understanding of procreation. This would be but another subject for his consideration, one that might serve him well in the future. 

“Still in hiding?” A voice called out and his shadow friend emerged from thin air.

“Loki does not hide. He merely awaits to reveal himself.” Loki told him.

“Well now might be the moment, there are whispers that the dwarves are on their way.” The shadow spoke calmly utterly unaffected by the politics of men.

“They crossed into Asgard last night, they will be at the palace in a few hours.” Loki told him with a sly grin. The shadow looked impressed for a moment before chuckling and shaking his head.

“Do I even wish to know?” The shadow asked one brow raised in contemplation. 

“Why is it not natural that the dwarves would come? All the others realms are joining together in cohesion, it would be most foolish to stand outside such a force. Even inaction could make a neutral party seem the foe.” Loki pointed out considering his nails for a moment.

“Indeed, but as far as I have known the dwarves care for little outside their forges and their purses.” The shadow told him taking a seat nearby and regarding Loki with a wary fondness, shooting a look of dark irritation as his shoulder was jostled by a patron.

“Some little bird might have pointed out their folly.” Loki grinned a winning smile.

“You have been to Nidavellir, to the land of the dwarves?” The shadows’ eyes widened in shock.

“Indeed, and I have checked on our interests in the dark elves realm.” The shadow was stunned to silence by Loki’s words and a slick smile graced his features. “Why do you seem so shocked? Why did you think I was keeping to my solitude? Some petty affair with the Odinson? You wound me!” Loki laid out one hand over his chest in a mockery of pain. “I am no such creature. Now come, I think the dwarves would be best announced by us then themselves, the idiotic creatures would make a friendly hand shake seem like an act of war.” Loki rose and offered his arm to the shadow who with an exasperated shake of his head took it.

~~~L/T~~~

After four days of absolute misery the last thing that Thor had expected to see was Loki enter the great hall with an affable smile on his face. Acting as if he had not barred Thor from his presence. Besides him was his fellow council member Narfi, and Thor could not help the sting of jealousy that another might have basked in his beloveds company. 

“The dwarves approach.” He spoke to the room, his eyes on the Allfather. Odin was tired, he moved slower and with greater discomfort. The Odinsleep was approaching fast and soon Thor would be the King of Asgard. It was a daunting thought and one he could not bear without Loki by his side. 

“They sent no word.” Odin’s words carried a weight with them of authority, but they rushed together with the slur of weariness. “Is this some act against us?”

“I think not, my king.” Loki told him with a shake of his head. “The dwarves have little patience for the formalities of politics, I believe they came in haste not in arms.”

“Bar them, I have not the patience for their rudeness.” Odin declared dismissively.

“If I might press you to overlook this slight of theirs.” Loki spoke quickly but calmly his eyes never straying from Odin even though Thor begged with his gaze that Loki but turn his head and grace him with his crimson stare. “The dwarves are simple creatures they will not take kindly to coming all this way only to be turned away at the door.”

“Well I do not take kindly to guests descending upon me without so much as a word of warning.” Odin growled out. 

“Indeed and if we press upon them this slight of theirs we might garnish even more of their goods for less gold. But they cannot meet with a king without notice, your son and I shall greet them in your stead.” Loki told him and Thor’s chest leapt that Loki might wish for him to be by his side, to greet them as a single force. 

“I consent.” Odin muttered. “But do not speak in my voice; any change must come through me.”

“Of course.” Finally after what seemed a lifetime Loki turned to face Thor, and it was all the prince could do not to rise from his chair and grasp the creature to himself for Loki was even more beautiful than when he had last seen him. His hair was dark and sleek, pushed back and flicking at his nape, his skin was the colour of the ocean in a rage and dashed and adorned with the raised markings of his kin, the red of his eyes stood out from the canvas of blue mirrored in the cloak that hung off his shoulders, Thor’s own as if the Jotun wrapped Thor’s claim willingly around his body, and the pure white chaste colour of his loincloth hanging low enough on his hips that one sure tug might leave him bare for all to see, and yet that pleasure was Thor’s alone. “Come, Odinson, we have but a few hours to prepare.” Loki offered up his hand, slender and deadly as the rest of him and Thor could not conceive of not getting to his feet and joining his lover. Behind him his father begged something of him and he agreed with a small noise with not thought to what was being asked of him. His heart racing as he noted that his beloved led him with ease towards Thor’s own chambers. Thor meant to give him strong words. Had practised in privacy the stern speech telling of his rage that Loki had left him abandoned for so long, he wanted to beg of him never to do so again and demand to know what dark corner of Asgard Loki had secreted himself away in. But the moment they were alone in Thor’s room these thoughts were dim and unimportant. Nothing in comparison to the desperate need to press himself against Loki. He pulled him in close and marvelled at how Loki moved in closer to him a slightly smug expression on his face. 

“I have missed you.” Thor breathed into Loki’s neck taking comfort in the way Loki’s slender hands reached into his hair and dragged him in closer shifting to slide one leg between Thor’s pressing in a delightful mix of hot and chilled into his body. 

“Really? Has it been so long since we were last in each other’s sight?” Loki teased his voice mercilessly light even as Thor’s lips pressed against his throat, his words a steady vibration against his lips. 

“It seems a lifetime.” Thor confessed pulling back slightly just to press their lips together. Loki allowed it, submitted to Thor’s hands on his face angling him so that the prince might push open his mouth and possessively lick into him.

“I had hardly noticed.” Loki huffed against his lips when they parted a slight smile lifting his mouth.

“Liar.” Thor growled pushing him up against the shut door to his room, the slim piece of wood the only thing that kept them from being no better than beasts rutting against each other in full sight of any curious eye in the palace. 

“It has been said of me before.” Loki admitted with a small laugh, his body settling back in comfort even as Thor leant his weight into pressing his slim shoulders firmly against the door. Thor moved in close and kissed Loki deeply once more, taking joy in the way the creature lifted to meet him, their mouths clashing together in passion, and the press of Loki’s hardness against him proof of the illusive creatures affections for him. They stayed that way a way contented just to kiss hungrily at each other until Loki turned his head away, licking the taste of Thor off his lips in a way that made him want to moan and he lowered his head to take Loki’s mouth as his own once more. “Stop, we have not the time.” Loki warned him huffing with exertion. “The dwarves descend on Asgard and we must be ready.” He told Thor a slight plead in his eyes. Thor grinned down at him wildly enough to evoke a slight look of suspicion from Loki.

“We shall be ready.” He soothed. “Though you are right, we have not the time to savour today.” Thor lifted Loki’s head with two fingers, forcing him to look up at him, the long fine line of his throat bared for Thor’s gaze but he resisted marking it as his for now. “Now know this, Loki, next time you take yourself from my sight I will tear down Asgard brick by brick until I find you. Do you understand?” Thor asked. Loki looked at him puzzled for moment before pressing their lips together almost chastely.

“I think you are unwise to issue a challenge to one such as I.” He muttered darkly against Thor’s mouth. 

“I think any challenge would be pleasing if your presence was the reward. Come now, my beloved, you are right, we must prepare for the dwarves.” Thor admitted with a slight sigh and Loki laughed slipping from Thor’s grasp as if it were the easiest thing in all the realms. 

“Duty before pleasure? You are turning into quite the king, Odinson.” Loki tittered moving to Thor’s wardrobe and sifting through his best robes with a deft and familiar hand. Thor stared at it, remembering how that same hand had felt on his skin, how well it might grip around his sex, how tight it might clutch in his hair as he thrust as deep as was possible into Loki’s body, and had to press his nails into his own hand to stop himself reaching out and grabbing Loki once more.

“If this is kingship then I think I might have to give the honour to another soul.” Thor grumbled invoking another peal of laughter from Loki.

“You would give up the power of an entire kingdom just to be able to lay your hand on me whenever you so wished?” Loki cackled at his dream. “Such a foolish creature to want to sell the sun for but a glimmer of gold.” He turned to face Thor his eyes dark with promise. “Do not fret yourself my soon-to-be-king, leadership does have its rewards, you must just wait for the right hour to claim them.”

~~~L/T~~~

Thor had heard tales of the dwarves his whole life, it had been the leader of the dwarves who had forged Mjolnir herself from the heart of a dying star. But they had never come to Asgard in Thor’s life before, there allegiances were many, preferring to arm every realm against each other and soak in the profit of both victory and defeat. Thor sat on an elaborate chair just in front of the throne of Asgard; it would not be proper for him to take the seat before he took his oaths, Loki stood to his side, the bare tempting flesh of his chest so close that the slight chill of his skin brushed the air around Thor. But he kept his place and remembered why they were there. The dwarves entered in a slightly disorganised jumble, they ere not men of war, more used to the rabbit holes of Nidavellir then the wide open splendour of Asgard. The dwarves were stout men, barely four feet at the highest, with small limbs and bulky mole like bodies. They were all clothed in leather jerkins and vast amounts of hair knotted and plaited together into intricate braids, beards and manes alike blurred together until whole faces were encircled in the rough looking pelt. Soot lined their faces and fire stains burnt their clothes, splashes of liquid gold hardened the rough fabrics together, and their stubby hands were covered in thick leather gloves, the palms worn to yellowing. 

“No other smith in all the realms could fashion so much as a spoon with the grace of the dwarves.” Loki whispered in his ear. “Their greatest boon is their craft and so they wear the garb of their work to formal occasions to show their prowess, the same way others might don armour.” Loki explained and Thor realised belatedly that he must have been pulling a face at their dress. 

“They all look the same.” Thor whispered. “Do you know any of them?”

“A few. I confess my dealing with the dwarves have been numerous but hardly worth celebration. Their leader is Sindri, the one with the black beard speckled with smelted gold, it was he who forged Mjolnir with the help from Brokkr and Buri. I believe Brokkr is the one to his left and Buri is over by the far side, her beard is slightly darker in red.” Loki flashed Thor a grin as he processed the information of ‘her beard’. “Now only stand when you must, no need to give the poor fellows a cricked neck now is there?” Loki whispered before descending the steps and walking towards the dwarves, he stopped right in front of their leader as close as he could possibly get so that the dwarf had to tilt his neck all the way back just to look at Loki.“Sindri! Welcome to Asgard.” Loki simpered his eyes flashing with mirth. “Though I must speak plainly, your troop is rather blocking the main hall here in Asgard. Perhaps your fellows might be more at home in the court yard? Or the stables?” Loki suggested and Thor flinched at the idea, slowly Loki turned to him and gave a broad wink.

“The crown offers you welcome, your kin are welcome to take rest in any of our rooms. Now why have to come with no warning to Asgard.”

“To pay you homage, future king.” Sindri growled out, his voice rough and unseasoned, slightly off key.

“Why not wait until the Odinson is king? Happily I will show you to the door….” Loki moved to sweep the group out of the door.

“Loki.” Thor called out in warning and Loki sighed loudly before rolling his eyes and smiling as insincerely as he could.

“There were voices in Nidavellir that said Asgard was amassing power. I should have known you had a hand in this.” He spat back at Loki a look of disgust on his face. “Poison always seeps back to you.”

“It must be quiet a burden upon your kind to stray from the dim lit pass ways of Nidavellir. To look upon each other without the grateful cloak of darkness…” Loki shuddered theatrically. “I cannot image the horrors.”

“You wretched dust bellied parasite. How has it been that some righteous goodly soul has not done you in?” Sindri snarled back, several of the other dwarves gathered to see what was going on as their leaders face grew redder and redder in his rage.

“Oh many have tried, none have succeeded.” Loki boasted simply, a casual smile on his face.

“Oh indeed I know they have not, for if they had your grave would be a site of such large celebration that the gay tunes would be heard all the way to the vaults of Nidavellir.” Loki just grinned back at the words and tugged his cloak around to wipe at his stomach, level with the snarling mouth of the dwarf. 

“A pity I shall miss such celebrations.” Loki tittered back.

“Perhaps we should adjourn to another room.” Thor suggested rising from his seat.

“Of course, prince.” Sindri humbled himself slightly.

“A fine suggestion, my prince, if the dwarfish king is to continue to shower my navel with spittle best it be done away from the judging eye of his kin.” Loki noted in a light tone and graciously led the way into one of the smaller meeting rooms where the three of them stood alone. 

“You have come a long way, dwarf.” Thor boomed trying to mimic his father’s tones as best as he could. Over the dwarfs shoulder Thor caught Loki lift his hand gently to his lips to disguise the quirk of a smile that hid a burst of laughter. Thor tried not to blush as his lovers amusement. “What is your purpose?”

“I offer you our hand in friendship.” 

“You might wish to wash it first.” Loki uttered loudly enough to be sure of being heard.  
The dwarf tugged on Thor’s arm trying to drag him away.

“I would have a silence with you, Prince of Asgard, a secret.” He whispered. “Away from your mutt.” He glared at Loki who grinned back charmingly.

“Oh come now Sindri, there are no secrets here, Asgard is a land of truth and justice. Besides your breath is so vile it would carve even the softest spoken words into the rock and leave them embossed for all to see.” Loki told him with a pleasant smile.

“There are secrets, always secrets where you step.” Sindri spat back snarling. “These are words for Prince’s, they are no business of frost serpents.”

“Indeed there are secrets where I step. Do you really think that anyone whispers in Asgard without me hearing it?” Loki asked his arm reaching around Thor’s shoulders and   
leaning his weight against the Prince, on impulse Thor wound his arm around Loki’s waist and tugged him in close. “Barely does a spider craft its web without my approval.”

“Fine. I give you council, Prince of Asgard, muzzle your dog as its father did.” Sindri snarled. “Far prettier the beast looked all done up in string.” A look of dark triumph crossed the dwarfs face but Loki remained perfectly calm.

“It was Sindri who forged the string that bound me, Odinson.” Loki told him carding one hand through Thor’s hair. Immediately Thor tensed and glared at the dwarf, his first thought was to take his head and gift it to Loki, as if sensing the turmoil growing within him Loki smiled. “Say what you will it was finely forged, a bond to curb the flow of magic, a most impressive feat would you not say?” Thor stared at Loki for a moment and watched as his red eyes danced with amusement.

“I trust your praise.” Thor gritted out, he could still picture Loki brutalised by golden strands. “If not where you direct it.”

“Never has a better trap been forged, if ever you need a leash for your dog, we would give it to you for free.” Sindri continued his gaze dark on Loki.

“I am sure you would.” Loki simpered falsely. “It was for my father that you originally crafted such a collar, was it not?” Loki asked, one hand trailing up and down Thor’s forearm a silent order to stay in silence.

“Indeed, he said he had a beast what needed curbing, a nasty wicked thing, needed to stop the spread of its foul ugly words, he did. And well I served, and well you took to silence.” Sindri sneered at him.

“Oh I take to little well, silence especially. But that was not all you forged for my unlucky sire, I remember our vaults stuffed to the brim with dwarfish weapons, weapons to take up against the Asgardians.”

“Good weapons they were. Strong weapons. Little matter what monsters held them.” The dwarf spluttered out.

“Oh yes, we all friends here now.” Loki smiled his most dangerous of grins. The door swung open suddenly and Loki alone managed to not flinch. 

“Loki…” Narfi appeared as if from the shadows and looked imploringly at Loki who shifted on his heels and gave the councillor his full attention. “A word if I might, it is of grave import.” Loki nodded gravely at him and then turned back to the dwarf and Thor.

“My most humble of apologises. I have other duties to attend to, I shall see you later my prince” Then Loki turned on the dwarf pulling himself up to his full height to bar down on the shorter creature. “And Sindri do take care here in Asgard, these are not the cavernous tunnels of Nidavellir, one of your slight structure might find himself all too easily miss-stepping and might never be seen of again.”

~~~L/T~~~

Loki’s shadow friend bumped his shoulder slightly with his own.

“Did all go as planned?” He asked.

“Does it not always? Now, do Brokkr and Buri wait alone?”

“Of course, for they are most honoured of all our guests.”

“Perfect.” Loki purred as they walked to a small smug lounge where the two forgers sat in waiting.

“Loki?” Brokkr questioned from beneath an ale cup that seemed in his small chubby hands as if he held an entire drum. 

“You flatter me with your remembrance, sire.” Loki swept low into a bow. 

“I flatter no man.” Brokkr grumbled back. “Our king curses your name upon the hour, no clock keeps time as well as my masters hatred for you.”

“Hmmm…it must be such a tedium to have to pretend to hang upon the words of a dolt. Especially when you are the better craftsman.” Loki hinted with one raised eyebrow. The dwarf narrowed his eyes slightly but his chest puffed at the compliment. “I had a chance to see the suits of armour you crafted for the elves not so long ago, I must admit they took my breath, there are not many who could marry the grace of movement with the necessity of armour. And you, my fair lady Buri, why it is known far and wide that no one sets a gem without thinking how your elegant fingers would have taken to the job.” 

“Have you not usurped enough Kings, Loki?” Buri muttered back her voice slightly higher than her fellow.

“What? Today?” Loki smiled and took a seat between them his gaze shifting from one to the other. “Not yet, I think. One more would serve me my fill this day. Now what say you, where is Sindri best suited, at his fire or here as master?” The look the two shared was enough. Loki grinned to him, he could have killed Sindri, the man who crafted the thread to bind him in silence, but that was a poor man’s revenge. Loki would have him live, would have him live knowing that Loki had taken everything from him, relegated to some dark pit in Nidavellir to craft out weapons of Loki’s demand. Only then would all be well with the realms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long since I wrote this, been really really busy and all i wanted to do was write! Hope I'm not too rusty for being away.


	23. Revenge is a sweet gesture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki changes the politics of the dwarves and makes a fatal error that makes Thor happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had the worst case of writers block for so long now. This has to be the tenth time I have written this chapter, in the end I had to give up on what was going to happen in this and vow to have it happen later on. The big bad of the story was going to make an appearance, but that didn't work, and then there was going to be a little bit of the big bad talking without Loki or Thor there but that didn't work with the set up, and then there was going to be a bit where he spoke to Loki but Loki didn't know who he was...there were many different versions, in the end it just didn't work so I hope this chapter is ok. The next one has a bit more of Loki being the lovable lying little bugger he is and torment Odin a little, which are my favourite bits to write anyway, so won't take me as long. To be honest I feel better just breaking my block! Hope you enjoy!

Part 23 Revenge is a sweet gesture

Thor raged through the palace seeking his beloved. Any who passed flew out of his way pressing their backs to the walls to give him space enough as he thundered through the passageways. A stuttering servant pointed him in the direction of one of the small sitting areas to the rear of the palace. Thor had frowned and if it was not for the terror in the young man’s face he would have been moved to call him a liar. 

Loki had at some point or another commandeered all of the sitting rooms. He took great enjoyment in harrying out any that might wish to sit and rest by spreading out the books of the library across the floor, or taking out each and every knife he owned and polishing them, or cataloguing a bizarre array of miscellaneous items he had collected from his travels. But of all these occasions Loki had never frequented the back rooms. They were the only rooms in the entire palace that offered no view of the gardens, only the pitch blackness of space stretching onwards, connected to Asgard only by the rainbow bridge. For some reason the sight always gave Loki pause. Thor had asked him once why that sight of all they had seen was the one to give him shivers. Loki had stared at him, his eyes still blue before his brother enforced his shape, and grinned, claiming that it must be the magpie in him, for no bird wishes to look out and see no perch to rest in the storm. Like all of Loki’s words through Thor knew well enough that it was only part true.   
Despite his misgivings as soon as Thor came upon the small well lit corridor that led to the sitting rooms Loki’s devious cackle echoed over the walls. Confusion glazing over his face; Thor pressed onwards and swung open the first door he came upon. Inside Loki sat, somehow regal despite being lounged on the floor like a beggar. Next to him his council member friend perched in a nest of cushions, and across from them two dwarves; their cheeks lit up with drink. Loki turned to him, his eyes bright with mischief and perhaps a little of the glow of wine.

“Ah, my prince and friend!” He called gleefully. “Come, my fellows, a cheer and a drink to the prince of Asgard and all his glory!” He yelled and there was a resounding cheer or ‘here here’ from all and the clink and slosh of drinks banging together. 

“Thank you.” Thor muttered politely to the dwarves. “Loki, if I might have a moment of your time?” Thor requested.

“A moment? Why you may have two or even three if you wish it.” Loki giggled. “But four…now that would be too much even for one such as you to ask.” Loki chuckled at his own joke and the others joined him merrily, more made easy to jest with drink than the humour of it. Loki staggered to his feet uneasily, his left foot dragging uselessly as it had fallen asleep. Finally he stood, wavering slightly, and then bowed dramatically and low enough that his cloak slipped and cascaded over his right shoulder to pool before him.   
“Good evening my friends, my prince has need of me. Nerfi, do not tarry too long you are needed with a sound mind tomorrow. And dear Brokkr and Buri a pleasant night to you both and may all our dealing be as smooth as the contents of our cups.” He slurred out. The dwarves cheered and Nerfi grumbled into his mug but bid Loki good evening none the less. Loki swayed over to Thor and picked up Thor’s right arm manhandling him until he could lean into the crook of Thor’s arm, his feet finding a hazy passage out of the room with the prince.

“What dealings? Loki, what have you…?” Thor began but Loki turned his face up towards him, his eyes clear and utterly focused, even the blush upon his cheeks seemed to have paled to his usual blue hue. 

“All in good time.” He whispered without a trace of a slur and Thor made to roll his eyes glancing back at Loki’s drinking companions, thinking that if Loki insisted upon a show he would at least gain some good from it. 

“Come now, Loki, I think talk will have to wait for the morrow. Now all you are good for is to sleep off the haze of drink.” Thor grumbled lifting Loki off the ground and into his arms. Loki tensed for a moment before slinging his arm floppily over Thor’s shoulder and waving elaborately to the others as he was carried from the room. As soon as the door slammed behind them loudly Loki heaved himself up as dignified as he could and stared down at Thor, his shoulder a steady tense weight against Thor’s chest.

“You can put me down now, Odinson.” He pointed out one eyebrow raised.

“Oh I think not.” Thor smirked back for the first time in hours feeling a lightening in his chest. “This is your play I am merely taking to my part.”

“Oh, so you are playing the noble friend selflessly helping a dear soul back to his chambers?” Loki teased his breath light and tempting over Thor’s collar.

“Nay, for who knows what mischief my dearest might endanger himself and Asgard with if he were allowed alone in his chambers when in such a state. Best for all if he was taken to my chambers, to lay out under my watch.” Thor told him, and Loki squirmed, tightening his grip around Thor’s neck and burrowing into the curve of his neck.

“What fun would mischief be under no one’s sight but my own?” Loki asked, his voice a soothing rumble over Thor’s throat, the motion of his words pressing his lips in little mimics of a kiss against his skin, it was nothing in honestly but enough to quicken his blood. “Mischief like so many things, is best when shared.” Loki chuckled into Thor’s neck. “I think you would be willing to share some mischief with me, would you not, Odinson?”

“I would not call it mischief.” Thor told him turning a corner with the blind confidence of one who has walked these corridors his whole life. “But I think nothing you offered I could refuse.” Loki pulled back to look at Thor, curious eyes staring over him and a chilled hand reaching for his brow to push back his hair. 

“You are a fool, Odinson. But…I confess I find myself in the sharing mood this evening. Battles won, enemies defeated…yes, it is not a night for a warrior to be alone.” Loki told him as Thor pushed open his door and drew them both inside, his voice the levelled surety of a warrior returning from war, his head held high and not the inebriated rascal he had pretended to be but moments before. Thor set him down inside the room drawing his face into his hands in some vein attempted at holding his beloved still.

“I saw no battle, Loki, I saw but friends in their cups, nestled in the security of a well-lit and warmed through room.” Thor confessed and Loki smiled and allowed himself to be drawn inwards for a kiss. A soft, dry press of their skin.

“Poor, naive, Odinson, to see battles only as the rage of steel on steel, or battlefields as mud soaked to bursting with blood. Make no mistake; what you entered into was the glorious end of warfare, the surrender of the dwarves to Asgard, surrender to you. Do you not think me deserving of your praise, Odinson? That I won for you a thousand victories while you wiled away your hours with that insipid worm Sendri?” At the mention of his name Thor was clutched by his rage. That creature had taken great insult against his beloved, threatened to muzzle him once more and bind part of what made Loki, the wondrous creature that he was. Thor reached out and dragged Loki into his embrace, brushing his fingertips over Loki’s lips to prove they were whole and not twisted with dwarfish twine.

“I care not for Sendri. I care not that he calls himself the king of dwarves, a good a title as if he called himself the King of dust for all it moves me. He had done wrong against you and he should pay for it with blood.” Thor told him kissing at Loki’s bare shoulder, flicking away the fabric of his own cloak to display it to his sight.

“You would sacrifice whatever good the realm of the forgers could do for Asgard just as some balm against my ills?” Loki tittered at the thoughts but tugged at Thor’s garment with impatience.

“If you wished it I would gift you his head.” Thor swore to him, removing his own tunic as quickly as he was able, keen to meet Loki’s silent demands for his flesh. Loki stared at him for a long moment, his feelings unclear.

“Truly?” He asked with curious red eyes, one of his dark blue hands caressing down Thor’s exposed chest, the trail of chill it left lighting up his nerves.

“Aye.” Thor swore reaching out to grasp Loki, but the devilish creature spun away from him in an easy motion of evasion.

“Even if it meant the dwarves forswore from ever arming Asgard hence? Even if it meant they took up blade and hammer and arrow against us?” Loki asked amusement playing over his face, even as with a swift motion of his dexterous fingers he used magic to rend Thor’s hose from his body, and lay them instead in a neat pile by the edge of his bed.

“Still would I lay it on the finest gold dish at but a word from you.” Thor told him as Loki finally allowed himself to be captured and pulled close against him. 

“I have had others do my will before, twisted them until they think my wants their own, for honour and duty and home I have moved others to do what I wish.” Loki spoke in a hushed voice as if fearing a start would have them discovered and ripped apart. “And you offer it freely Odinson. No one has ever been moved to vengeance over me before.” Loki whispered against Thor’s lips, his hands smoothing over Thor’s as if needing to trace every inch of him even as he pressed them closer together. “I find myself humbled.” Loki smiled, his wondrous wicked grin that was anything but humble, and Thor felt his blood heat, his pleasure thickening against Loki’s thigh. The creature must have felt it for he moved just slightly skimming the heated flesh of Thor’s arousal against the smooth palate of his thigh. “However, Odinson, I consider myself to be a very ‘hands on’ individual.” One of Loki’s hands slide down Thor’s body to grasp his length tightly, his thumb rubbing a drop of pre-spend into the sensitive flesh. “If I wished for vengeance I would seek it myself. No man wishes to deny himself of what he wants…especially when he may just take it.” Loki whispered in Thor’s ear, his breath warm despite the cool press of his cheek against Thor’s.

“And what is it that you want, Loki?” Thor asked, tilting Loki’s face towards his own with a strong grip on his chin. Loki rewarded him with a smirk, both hands sliding up Thor’s chest, lingering over his breast bone for just a moment before pushing heartily with both palms, flinging Thor backwards onto the bed. In a flash Loki was upon him, crawling and slithering over his body until their faces were level once more.

“You, Odinson…” He spread his thighs over Thor’s lap making a place for the Asgardian beneath him. “…I want you.” He rocked backwards slightly allowing Thor’s firm flesh to graze his buttocks in open invitation. And Loki indeed took. With a hushed whisper he forbade Thor his movements until there was nothing he could do but strain the tendons in his neck bending upwards for a kiss as Loki moved unseen behind himself, opening up for Thor, slicking himself with a noise that seemed wondrously vulgar in the relative silence of the chamber. Finally after what seemed an eternity of fraying patience Loki shifted. His beautiful lips kiss swollen and bitten, moist and shimmering with Thor’s own spit, regrettably torn away from Thor’s reach. But then Loki descended upon him, taking all of Thor within him in one long easy glide, the fabric of his loincloth unravelled around his blue thighs, shaking slightly with the spread of himself. Thor could only lay upon his bed and watch as he beloved used him for his pleasure. 

“Oh yes.” Loki gasped, his throat a vivid display of the tense and release of muscles. “This is much better. Why would I ever think to trust my own pleasure to the clumsy ardour of a beast such as you.” His voice caught up in his own breathlessness muttered to the ceiling. His hips rolled down onto Thor’s length, the press of sharp bones too hard to be comfortable but greatly outweighed by the tight wet passage gripped around him, and Loki’s chilled digits ghosting over his chest as he moved. Thor’s hand slide up Loki’s thigh, desperate to touch him and Loki smirked down at him and grabbed his hand forced his grip around Loki’s sex jutting out in front of him and dribbling pre-spend down from its swollen tip. Thor moved willingly, wringing pleasure out of Loki, feeling an echo of his own ministrations at every clench of Loki’s perfect body around him. All too soon Loki stiffened, his head arched backwards as he reached completion, his climax dripping down Thor’s fingers. No longer able to hold himself back, Thor released Loki only to grab him tightly by his hips and push upwards into him, his lovers body limp and utterly surrendered as he thrust his way to his own completion moments later. Above him Loki chuckled.

“Mindless brute.” He muttered, but there was fondness in his voice. All too soon Thor felt Loki move and he slipped from the welcoming heat of his beloved. Thor held his breath, fearing Loki would leave, it was unbearable to contemplate but worryingly likely and Thor would wish nothing more than the comforting weight of Loki’s frame draped over his own. But, ever the contradiction, Loki did not move, merely swiped the back of his hand over his brow and grinned down at Thor.  
Thor dazedly moved his hand through the slick mess of his stomach where Loki’s release had escape his hand, marvelling at the clear glistening trail it left, lifting it up as if to take the moist tips of his fingers into his mouth. Above him Loki’s face pinched in distaste and a blue hand slapped away his own from his mesmerising endeavour. 

“Stop that.” Loki chided with the tight snap of a maid to a child in her care. “You are the future king of Asgard. How can you sink so low?” He told him in displeasure.   
Thor laughed. “There is not an inch of you I would not taste. I would not kiss or wet my tongue against.” He murmured, his hands sliding down Loki’s thighs then back up to cup his buttocks, two fingers sliding against his hole to find it open and messy from his own pleasure. Loki shuddered as he traced the rim, his eyes fluttering closed. “Not one part of you I do not ache to taste.” He made his implication clear with one swirl of his finger tip and Loki flushed under the cobalt of his kin, a new shine of sweat salting his skin and he gave a small whine of oversensitivity. It was not the first time Thor had had this thought, alone in the dark of his room it had repeated with near obsessive regularity. But here with Loki’s eyes opening in a flash on him, reluctance, embarrassment and want warring beautifully in the red of his eyes, it was the first time it seemed more than a wicked desire. Thor watched as Loki swallowed thickly and then visibly shook himself knocking at Thor’s forearm so he would refrain from tormenting him further with inquisitive touches and swung away from him, a ghosting of green energy left the mage clean and dressed as if he had just finished nothing more scandalous than a session in the library and had not been writhing about in Thor’s bed at all. Thor sighed and scowled at his beloved.

“You might have bathed with me Loki.” He pouted. Loki laughed, a sharp bark of a noise.

“I might do many things, all of them far more productive than a bath, or are you too much a child to be trusted to yourself?” Loki asked, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Shall I send for one of the crones to keep you company, to wash you like an infirmed?” He teased. 

“I wish for no company but yours.” Thor responded reaching aimlessly for Loki, knowing it was far too late.

“Alas, then none you shall have.” Loki mocked him. “Your father shall send for us in the morning no doubt and there is much to do in the mean time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~L/T~~~~~~~~~~

There was nothing to do in the meantime. Loki was a creature of great planning and, as often was the case, this days mischief had to be allowed to stew some moments without him. But it would have done no good for the king to have sent for his son and found a serpent wrapped around him in a wicked embrace of flesh. Thor might not understand why Asgard would be reluctant to not take celebration in their prince’s lover, but Loki did. As it was he was left with nothing to amuse himself with other than sleep and the birds that frequented his chambers. A sweet chaffinch sat on his palm spreading it’s wings amiably as he altered the colours of its plumage, from the dark shimmering black of the raven to the garish swirl of the peacock. 

“My lord, the king sends for you.” The shadow entered, not bothering to knock and Loki paused to let the bird take flight, the slight blurring of ivy green marking it forever as one of Loki’s little children. Gracefully he got to his feet and joined his fellow. 

“Of course, lead the way, my friend.” Loki grinned. “Tell me, Shadow, has there been much upset since our meeting?”

“Upset? Why no, of course not.” The shadow replied a look of conspiracy to his face. “Oh, all apart from one small thing. Brokkr and Buri have started a small revolution, and took command of the dwarfish nation at lunch time today.”

“A great improvement on Sendri’s revulsion, would you not say?” Loki teased with a grin and the shadow laughed silently to himself before retaking the pose of the stiff member of the council. By the time Loki stepped into the great hall Thor was already stood waiting near the throne, but Loki gave him no heed. There were important things to discuss.

“Greetings, Loki.” The king of Asgard spoke, the derision clear in his tone.

“Allfather.” Loki replied with an act that was half a bow and half a curtsey before dropping to a seat to lounge in comfort admiring his nails with a critical eye.

“It seems there have been some upheavals with the dwarves since last we spoke.” The king told him in his steady rumble.

“Oh yes?” Loki lifted his eyes as if intrigued. “I must admit I have been in such distraction that I had barely a chance to see the great and mighty dwarfish king since his arrival. Tell me, is dear Sendri well?”

“I think not. He has been overthrown, relegated back to the mines.” The Allfather told him. Loki sat up in shock.

“What unholy force has power enough to uproot a rightly king?” Loki asked a picture of incredulity. “Unless some force declared him not to be rightly, and then why this unhappy turn of events is merely justice.” Loki pointed out acting as if he were composing himself. “What tragedy that their conflict should spill into our halls. Tell me, what of their dealings with Asgard, has this sorry affair marked us with its blemish?”

“Nay, in fact, the dwarfs have turned to us in thanks instead, and call themselves our allies in any times of need.”

“What wonders, my king.” Loki clapped his hands together in a display of glee. 

“Aye, and what hand have you in these dealings?” The king demanded, the fearsome tip of his sceptre pointed at Loki’s heart.

“Me? Why not at all. Would that credit I could claim for myself, but alas, I had thought we might have days of negotiations and I must confess, I rather selfishly used these first new hours of discussion to draw old friends in more base and frivolous talk.” Loki faked a rather convincing squirm in his seat. “Nay, for the true hero you may look no further than your own fruit. Your son is a most brilliant negotiator, King of Asgard. One might be drawn to think you have overlooked him for such a role. An easy mistake to make with at such a disadvantage as your own.” Loki lifted one hand to cover his eye as if his barb was not clear enough and then he turned to look at Thor to share his little jest, confident in a returning look of reluctant amusement.

Loki had made mistakes before. No one lives as long as a god without them. He had misread intentions, he had crossed those who would not stomach to be crossed, he had been locked in a tower with his words bitterly trapped from him. Each mistake had been a lesson to forge him into the creature he was. The wicked being who planned his escape from cities that stood as nothing more than foundations and dreams. But stood before the one eyed fool king, in the glittering halls of Asgard, he made a fatal error. He had turned, no more than the shift of one shoulder to bring him to his end, for the motion brought the prince into the centre of his sight. 

Thor stood surrounded by gold, easily outmatching it in glory, emblazoned by the light that Asgard poured into its rooms, the light that usually pressed an ache into Loki’s temples, Thor stood in ornament to Asgard, far more splendid than any golden statue or gem encrusted pillar. Thor wore the light well, it struck him as an ally, deepening every ridge of muscle and lighting every strand of his hair to gleaming, and made his eyes sapphires. He was beautiful. Utterly magnificent, and Loki would have all creatures in every realm throw themselves at his feet in subjugation, not for power or security but because every eye in existence had to be made to gaze on the thunderer with the awe which he did. If Loki must be made to be a worshipper than he would be the leader of a horde of acolytes. Existence itself would bend knee to Thor with ease, he realised. Loki’s face softened for a moment, just one foolish moment. His own lying lips, the weapons of his craft, turned traitor on him and curled up slightly, the barest ghost of a smile. Thor’s face lit up in a beam, and Loki knew he had been caught. Loki had made a mistake, whatever game he and the Odinson had been playing, he had just shown his hand, and inevitably lost. It did not matter that a moment later his mask returned, well practiced ambivalence stretched out comfortably on his features. It had only taken one false step to fall from the cliff. Thor moved near him, the heat of him unsettling as it was addictive. A rough calloused hand slotted onto his shoulder under the soft fall of his cloak. 

“Now all this is settled father, unless you have any more need of us, we shall give you our leave.” Thor spoke to his king and father, almost shielding Loki with his frame as if he were something that needed protecting.

“Aye, my son.” The king gave in with a sigh, his fatigue showed more each passing day, and each sign of his weariness brought them another day closer to the day when Thor would sit in splendour on the throne of Asgard.

Loki merely nodded his goodbye and allowed Thor to lead him away from the throne room and stepped with the obvious destination of Thor’s own chambers. The chambers which would still carry the scent of their undoing from the day before. Quickly Loki moved slightly to the side encouraging Thor to step with him instead outside to a bench where they might see the warriors practice. The Odinson submitted to his motion and they sat watching the warriors of Asgard train. Thor watched critically and called out advice to a few young boys, the first few tufts of hair fluffing over their faces like wild cotton in the fields. They were close enough that whatever words he wished to speak with Loki would be overheard. Loki amused himself by calling out convoluted and often contradictory advice, indeed three youths argued for ten whole minuets how one might move their feet centre clockwise, and later by crafting intricate ornaments of flowers for the two of them to wear until they smelt of crushed petals and his fingers were tinged to yellow with pollen. But the sky started to darken and the youths settled up the victor and tarried away for evening meal. 

“You changed the entire governing system of the dwarves today.” Thor spoke in distant tones and Loki tried and failed to discover hints of pride or shame in his tone. “You should not have the power to do such things.” He turned his earnest eyes towards Loki, imploring him to feel guilt. Loki felt the cruel desire to laugh at him, tempered down only be affection. 

“Look at the stars.” Loki demands gesturing vaguely to the sky where the first few specks of light were just glittering through the end of day light. “Utterly unreachable. Each large enough to make Asgard seem like a speck of dust, denser than the largest mountain, burning with more heat than the fiercest flames of Muspelheim, or chilled deeper than the frosted seas of Jottenheim. But here we see them as nothing more than pretty lights, no more a threat than the lightening bugs of May. Even here, little powerless Loki might command the heavens, press names and shape upon them, craft them to my ends, and they will blink on in the darkness, helpless. We are all only as powerful as we are allowed to be my others.”

“You do these things for Asgard, you these things for me.” Thor told him in a soft voice and Loki realised Thor had not been begging him to feel guilt but fear, much as he had begged of the Odinson in the library of the elves. “I would not have you battle stars in my name.” He pressed a desperate kiss to Loki’s temple just under a wilting violet flower.

“Oh my dearest fool, have you not yet realised there is no one, not a mighty dragon, not the king of the dwarves, not even the stars themselves powerful enough to end Loki.” In that moment under the fledgling stars with Thor’s huge warm hand creeping over his jaw to tug him in for a kiss it didn’t even seem like much of a lie.


	24. Part 24 A dark mark is not always bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Odin have a little talk, the king of the dark elves is declared and the crown of asgard makes an announcement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning on doing this so quickly, but I got the words for some of Loki's comments to Odin and the shadow in my head and I didn't want them to vanish from my brain (I spend a lot of my day when I should be doing other things making up Loki's words). Sometimes I do think I should take more time cos I fluff up. For example I wanted to do this whole bit where Loki thinks it would be crass to use his height against Odin because he was a runt amongst giants but then I remembered that he made fun of how short the dwarves were, I hate it when past me puts a spanner in the works for current me! Hope it's ok.

Part 24 A dark mark is not always bad

“I see your mind.” The king’s words boomed in the relative silence and Loki forced himself not to roll his eyes. It had been a pleasant morning and now it was thoroughly interrupted. The Jotun was forced to throw back his head from where he lay on a bench in the shade to regard the King of Asgard upside-down.

“Hmm…” He lazily murmured settling down his long disregarded book into the grass below him.

“I see your mind.” The king told him with the surety that was so often found in rulers but rarely built of solid foundations. 

“Really? Did I forget to cover it again?” Loki mocked with a smirk. “I shall hasten to remedy this at once, thank you so much for your deep concern, your majesty.” With an elaborate wave of his hand Loki made to draw up an invisible hood over his head as if curtaining the top of his skull from view. The King did not appear amused by such an act. 

“I see your mind.” The king said once more and Loki sighed in boredom, hoping that the conversation might soon evolve past that one sentence; he feared he would be moved to retrieve his book from where it rested if it did not. 

“A bold statement to make indeed, my king. It is a wondrous feat to know the workings of another man’s mind.” He pointed out lifting himself up to sit and stretching like a cat, the hard wood of his most favoured bench was only comfortable for so long. “Ah, but perhaps it is not that you know my mind.” Loki mused sifting his stare to the king. “Perhaps you merely fear my mind and wish to have it changed. This I fear treads further than even your power, my king. There is much you may ask of my, my liege, my body, my acts, my blade, all these are sworn to you. But to make the same self-swear of my mind would be a fallacy beyond even me. Even if I did offer you, in honest pledge, the entirety of my inner thoughts, what good would such words be? It would be as good as forswearing the stars to be made of milk and honey, nothing but noise, for no matter how earnestly or well-spoken such words could never be true. For how would you seek to police such things when even my own skills are slave to the rambling paths of my own thoughts? Not to add that these thoughts are more effusive than the air we breathe. Why, a million crimes against you could I commit in the sacrosanct chambers of my brain and you would never catch so much as a shadow of them.” Loki told him, his eyes twinkling.

“I know what you are doing with my son.” The king told him.

“Ah, yes, well it would seem that every soul from here to Vanaheim knows what I am doing with your son today. Or more plainly what he is doing with me.” Loki spoke with a trace of steel to his voice, his hand stayed to the mark that burdened his neck, a vivid brand of ownership that the Odinson had decided to suck into the cobalt flesh of his neck. 

“I swear if he has not carved it into the shape of a lightning bolt it is not for lack of effort on his part.” While Loki did enjoy the King’s obvious discomfort it was not worth it for the mark upon him. A memory of the night previous burnt its way through Loki like flames consuming parchment. Thor’s mouth impossibly hot, wet and urgently insistent on him, blunt teeth worrying at his skin, intermittently substituted with the moist flesh of his tongue. Loki had, of course, meant to push the oaf away, and yet somehow his efforts had ended with his baring more of his neck, arching backwards and clutching at Thor’s nape to press him closer. “Believe me, my king, your wayward son has been justly punished for his indiscretion.” Loki jerked his thumb in a vague direction trusting without looking that the fool prince of Asgard would be lingering in the distance, loyally keeping his distance in his disgrace, though watching Loki’s every move with hope for the slightest sign of forgiveness.

“I do not wish for you to see my son hence. Draw back whatever venomous tendril you have enwrapped him with and speak with him no more.” It was a command, Loki realised with glee, for he could not remember the last time a command tarried him to action.

“Prey tell me, who speaks before me? Odin; father of Thor, or The Allfather; mighty king of Asgard?” Loki asked pleasantly as if he had not been barred from Thor’s side, he reached for his book and dusted off the dirt from its spine, lingering the tips of his fingers over the spirally title.

“It matters not which I claim, regardless I am he.” Odin asserted as if both titles were enjoined together inseparable.

“Ah, but you see my answer must be tailored to its wearer.” Loki lifted to his feet smoothing out the ruffles of inaction from his cloak and loincloth. “To the king I might put on pleasant acts of grace and servitude. Call upon his mercy to remember my record in the palace, the goods I have done in my toil for Asgard, in his own name no less, and for the reputation of his son. I would beg for him to recall the help I served in calling allies to Asgard in their droves, and assisted in pulling not one but two vicious enemies away from bloodshed and towards peace. You cannot deny of me these boons, and so I must force upon you my mark as a man of goodly intent for both your heir and its land.” Loki stood and grinned at the king, lifting high his brow in pride. “But to the father I say simply, rail on old man, for your voice shall be but a whisper in a hurricane. All your objections shall do is make my touch all the more craved, my voice all the sweeter. Better to make of me an ally, my king, for your scorn will not keep him from his desires, but draw him closer to their flames.” Loki stood close enough that the mighty king had to tilt his head upwards to gaze into his red eyes, obligingly Loki took a step of retreat, bowing his head in mock respect, before sweeping his gaze towards Thor. He was stood with his fellows in the grounds to practice, but he had chosen a small ring far from his usual haunts undoubtedly that he might keep Loki within his sight. The fool gave no pretence of watching his friends engage in practise, even when the most garish of his companions, Fandral, struck him heartily on the arm in an effort to win his attention from his study of Loki and the king. Loki lifted his hand and waved minutely, the act alone enough to make the prince beam a grin towards him as if he had committed some great act of adoration and not merely waggled the ends of his fingers. Loki huffed his amusement into the space between them before smirking at the king and bowing his goodbyes. “Go and watch your son feign combat, my king, take joy in his company. For soon you rest, your season dwindles and his approaches, but sleep assured your kingdom will be here in mighty glory when you arise, and your son also. Trust that I will keep it so.” Loki swore to him.

“Aye, for as long as it serves you.” The King pointed out staying Loki’s departure for a moment. Loki shrugged not bothering to turn back to him.

“All demons have their price, your son knows well of mine.” He told him before sweeping away back to his room.

~~~~~L/T~~~~~

Loki paced. He traversed his room enough that the stones seemed to line a path for him as cattle mark over the fields.   
“This does not please you?” The shadow asked him, a casual grin over his face. “I had thought your little elf spy…” The shadow ran his eyes over the parchment that the magpie had left with them to find the light elf’s signature. “…your ‘dearest Wren’…” He echoed from the letters end. “…why his news should lighten your heart. Eseross wins his claim over Svalterheim, you backed the right horse. I had rather thought that beer or wine might be called for, not to see you swing like a pendulum in motion.”

“It is but one battle to take, it a hundred to keep.” Loki pointed out bitterly. “He spared the life of one of his brothers, a mistake I had not envisioned him of.”

“Some find it difficult to kill their kin.” Nerfi shrugged. 

“A man should not hesitant to be rid of his own arm if it opposes. Blood is blood, it tastes no more bitter from the veins of your kin than any other.” Loki replied tensely. “I cannot now send a blade to be done with this brother, for Eseross will see my mark in it, no matter how far I strike from.”

“So, let him know.” The shadow advised. “Let him see you fear not to draw against him even now.”

“My shadow, have you not mimicked a man long enough to know their thinking. This is a man who has just won a kingdom, his pitiful brain will be seething and writhing with confidence, he is just fool enough to think he can stand against me, and now is not the time to fight our own limbs.” Loki pointed out turning to the shadow. “Send word to Wren, instruct him to make show of our approval of this blundering move, give my leave to bestow upon this most beloved brother some title or other. Sink him deep into the mire of the politic, force upon him some small role in every council in all the court. He shall rare see daylight let alone have time enough to seek his brother ears.” Loki instructed and his shadow settled in with a parchment to draw the letter. 

“This brother is barely a boy, I think you are too suspicious, my friend.” 

“Suspicious? Is it suspicious when the rabbit flinches at the call of the hawk? Is it suspicion that makes the deer breed it’s babes into camouflage? Or gives the lizard it’s warning stripes of poison on its back? It is survival, and I wish to survive.” Loki told him with his eyes set in determination. “Some force moves against us, clever and unseen, and no matter what arcane art I attempt to use to fathom it out, I see nothing. I cannot plot against nothing.” Loki finally took a seat, slumping into his cushions in defeat. 

“Aye, but walls strengthened against storms hold out attackers. If we must meet this force, than we shall meet it on high ground.” The shadow told him and Loki’s lips lifted to a smile. 

“Indeed, we can but brace ourselves now.” Loki admitted moving to check the correspondence with Wren, giving one nod before tying it to the leg of the waiting magpie and sending it forth. 

“If you do not mind, my friend, I have some small matters of my own to see to.” The shadow announced rising to his feet. Loki looked at him in curiosity. “There is a particular young bar maiden that I have a passing fondness for, Nerfi may not have had much an appetite for such things but I find it a small amusement.” 

“Of course, my friend, we shall talk on the morrow.” Loki told him and the shadow lay one hand on his shoulder.

“I hope you shall be in brighter spirits then.” He smiled and left Loki to his own darkening thoughts. 

~~~L/T~~~

Loki sat in contemplation for some time before there was a knock upon his door.

“Enter, Odinson.” He called with a small smile, for no other knocked as the thunderer did. Sheepishly Thor entered the room gazing at Loki cautiously. 

“You are here, Loki.” He noted pointlessly.

“Indeed.” Loki replied tersely. “Here I am, cloaked, and pinned and branded yours. Tell me, Odinson, have you come with more of your marks for me to bear. Perhaps you wish to carve your name into my flesh? Or deeper? Shall I shed my skin and muscles that my bones might display your ownership?”

“Loki, I am sorry I have wronged you.” Thor apologised, his eyes lingering brightly on the mark on Loki’s neck.

“No, you are sorry that I am angered with you.” Loki corrected keeping himself out of Thor’s reach. 

“Still, I am sorry.” Thor repeated coming towards Loki and drawing him into his arms with the same imploring touch that one might use with a dog or horse. Loki allowed himself to be drawn in. Thor smelt of Asgard, the silver of his armour, the rich scent of grass, sweat from his play fighting, and sunlight, glorious golden light trapped in the warm scent of his skin despite the darkening sky at Loki’s window. Loki breathed him in, unhindered by the way Thor’s breastplate rubbed in discomfort over his bared flesh, or the way his heat made the Jotun perspire. Thor pulled back far enough to grasp Loki’s face within his hands and kiss his lips just lightly. “Say I am forgiven, my beloved.” He pleaded without thought to what he would lose. Loki was always marvelled by Thor’s ability to give freely what should be hard won. “I beg of you, forgive me.” He spoke directly against Loki’s forehead. Loki squirmed until Thor released him and he draped himself over his cushioned seat, making sure to spread himself so there would not be room enough for Thor to join him.

“I will accept your apology, Odinson, on your honour that you will not sink to such foolishness again.” Loki told him, and Thor smiled broadly and set himself on the floor at Loki’s side, close enough that his back brushed Loki’s stomach where he lay. 

“I swear it, Loki. Pray tell me what have you done in my banishment?” Thor asked stealing for himself one of Loki’s hands that he might stroke it with his own. 

“Oh, mischief of course.” Loki told him and was rewarded by a chuckle pressed into the flesh of his wrist. 

“It would not surprise me if you had spent your day hefting Yggdrasil’s roots from their place and arranging them in an order more suited to your whims.” Thor told him, with pride edging his disapproval.

“And allow the soil of eternity to stain my flesh? Nay, it is too sullying work for one such as I.”

“So what misdeed have you done?” Thor asked. Loki pulled his hands from Thor’s grip causing the prince to make the slightest noise of complain in the back of his throat, soon forgotten as Loki’s fingers slid into his golden hair and the Jotun began to twine his locks into intricate braids. 

“It is best I not say, Odinson, the foolish man allows his plans to sit in the sun, defenceless to the onslaught of carrion. I prefer the security of the dark for my fledglings.” 

“Has the dark not its own abundance of predators?” Thor asked turning his head and forcing Loki to abandon his task.

“Aye, but my plans are crafted in the darkness itself.” Loki told him delighting in the way Thor kept his gaze. “They are perfectly suited for the darkness, hiding in secret, and in shadows until they are matured enough to be predators of their own right.” Loki told him. Thor moved closer dragging his body on top of Loki’s across the small seat barely large enough for Loki alone. Thor drew Loki in for a kiss, taking possession of his lips gently, one finger tracing over the mark still vivid over the expanse of his neck. Loki laughed breaking them apart to look with curiosity at Thor. “You do rather enjoy that you have marked me, do you not?” He noted.

“You misunderstand.” Thor told him and Loki tensed for he did not much like the accusation that Thor was capable of confusing him. “It is true that nothing would please me more than shouting to all of Asgard that you are mine and I am yours. You know this, and to see you move around the palace with such a mark while all know that it was I that placed it there, I cannot deny that something within me finds great contentment in this. But there is more. It is a memory, and I cannot gaze upon it without recalling you, your body pressed against mine, your hands tight and near desperation in my hair. You desired me, and but a grain of proof of this is more dear to me than all the gold of Asgard.” 

“What foolishness that you prize such carnal things.” Loki dismissed, though his own thoughts had turned traitorously hungry. “I should teach you to honour things eternal and worthy, such as knowledge. Your teachers would spend the rest of their lives in praise of me if you turned to your studies with the same enchantment and dedication.” 

“We cannot help what delight us.” Thor pointed out clearly not willing to give any ground on the subject. 

“I suppose, but we can school ourselves to pursue more noble things.” Loki told him.

“I can think of nothing more noble than your affections.” Thor said, using his large hands to tilt Loki’s face towards him, his thumb brushing against the darkened bruise on Loki’s neck. “Tell me, my beloved, why you did not simply go to a healer if you were so irked by my mark? Or use your talents to hide it from view? Why nothing of more art than a slip of fabric was needed to remove this from sight.”

“I wished for you to see what it was that you had done, that you might think more on your acts. I see I was a fool to try and teach you a lesson, Odinson.” Loki resolutely told him, but he allowed a small smirk to grace his lips and Thor smiled back above him, sinking deeper into the seat and spreading more of his weight over Loki. 

“It is indeed folly to teach me a lesson, I find the best route to success in such things is repetition.” He whispered tracing the mark with his lips this time, so much more urgent than his fingers. “If one truly wishes for me to be educated.”

“Well I have always tried to further your studies.” Loki agreed breathlessly, his hand slipping not of its own will into Thor’s hair to tug him closer.

~~~L/T~~~

Thor blushed under his mother’s knowing smile as he stood before the king and queen of Asgard. He felt as if he were but a child once more, the first awkward signs of his manhood replacing the simple androgyny of youth. To his side Loki stood, his stance relaxed as if a vivid stain of a bruise was not darkening just under his chin, larger even than the slightly faded mark further round on his neck. At once Thor itched to touch it, to wonder at this proof of Loki’s desire for him. Each time they had lain together Loki had retreated from his side in such haste that the moment was little more than some wondrous dream, but this mark would take days to fade from sight and in that time Thor might make others. He wondered distractedly if Loki might gasp in that same helpless way if he were to suck such a mark into the delicate skin of his hip instead. Loki turned to him slightly and smiled wickedly as if able to hear his thoughts before turning pointedly at the thrones before them to remind Thor of their place. Thor jerked his stare back to his parents, catching his mother stifle a laugh behind her fingers. His father appeared much less pleased.

“I have summoned you here to discuss my impending sleep.” Thor stiffened his back at his father’s words, the last time that his father had slept he had been a babe, still struggling with the complexities of speech and movement, he barely remembered it. And even Thor was not deaf to the talk of the palace, he knew his father grew older, he could see the tiredness in his every move, he knew that this time he would sleep longer. “Thor, you are old enough to take the throne in my absence, and long have you been declared my successor in merit as well as blood. One month hence you shall swear your oaths to the throne and take your rightful place.” Thor could not help but suck in a gasp at the speed of it all. His mind hazed slightly with the pressure of the situation, but it was not enough to stop the thrum of excitement at the idea. “Loki, as my son’s advisor, you shall oversee the ceremony, not only Asgard, but all the realms shall glory in Thor’s ascension, I leave this to your care.” Loki took a deep and graceful bow.

“I shall see to it at once.” The Jotun told the throne, not a hint of mocking to his tone. 

“I am trusting you with this, Loki of Jottenheim, it would be unwise to make me regret such a decision.” The King warned Loki and Thor could not help but feel that the two men were talking of something more than merely coronations and celebrations, but he trusted that Loki would tell him if he needed to know. 

“You regret would be my deepest wound.” Loki replied with a sparkle in his eyes. Odin merely scowled at the two of them like they were young boys caught in the bramble patch but he said nothing merely dismissed them to their tasks.   
Once safely out of earshot Thor grasped at Loki lifting him in an embrace with giddy laughter. Loki, to Thor’s welcome surprise merely laughed back at him throwing his arms around Thor’s neck. 

“Come now, enough of this foolishness.” He eventually told Thor and the prince placed him back on the ground but refused to give up his hold on the Jotun. “We should celebrate.” Loki declared. “Call your companions, we shall drink deep of our cups tonight in your honour.” Thor raised his brow at the idea, he had rather thought that he and Loki might celebrate privately that night in his chambers, but Loki rarely displayed anything more than passing boredom at Thor’s most trusted fellows. “Oh do not look so bewildered Thor, I find your friends to be passing pleasant enough in small enough dosses. Besides, it would be wise of me to seek their assistance in the planning of your coronation, they are much more favoured by your people than I am.” Loki looped his arms high around the back of Thor’s head and brought their faces close together lifting up to press his mouth against Thor’s ear. “And there shall be so much to do…my king.” Loki whispered the word right into the shell of Thor’s ear and it sent a dark needy shiver all the way down his spine. He had never thought that such a word would affect him as it did, but hearing it from Loki’s lips, almost as an adoration, heated his blood and sent his skin itching with desire. Loki, the bedevilled creature merely grinned and set off dragging him down the hall before he could recover. “Come, they shall most likely be in the great hall feasting.” Loki declared and Thor allowed himself to be pulled down the corridors by Loki’s dark blue grip, the thought resonated deep inside of him and rang out like a bell. He was to be king of Asgard.


	25. Scorpions and stags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki doesn't tell a story and Thor has a nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you for ThetaSigma483 for being an awesome beta, any residual mistakes are all my own!

Part 25 Scorpions and stags

The tavern was muggy and hot, with the stale scent of the other guests’ musk heavy in the air, and the breath condensing the windows until they dripped. Loki had been forced to abandon his cloak at the entrance, and sweat stuck cloyingly to his skin as patrons pushed past; the sticky skin, furs, and metal of Asgard rubbing an irritation into his skin. However, it was a necessary evil, for Thor sat in his element. The dimming light of the taverns few candles did nothing to darken the beautiful prince, not with his glass raised high in glory, his arm wrapped around one of his companions, his voice one amongst the hoard. It pleased Loki, for while Odin might rule from his golden seat, the distant war bringer of Asgard’s past, Thor would rule from every tavern over Asgard. He would command from inside a throng of his kin and all would raise their voices in praise of it. Loki made a seat for himself close enough for every word the prince and his fellows spoke to reach his ears, but not close enough that his presence might sour their glee. His shadow friend gifted him with a smile before turning back to the bar maid, a pleasing enough wench, if it was not for the stink of her soul. Loki would have to deal with that later, but tonight was for Thor and evil deeds would have to tarry at least a small while. 

Loki idled away his hours in close regard of Thor, he did not even attempt to match them glass for glass, the empty yeast burn of mead did little for his pallet, but he crowed with every cheer, and when the dancing began took a few tremulous spins around the cramped space with lady Sif. Though Loki would have been of a much more pleasant partnership if she had allowed him to lead through the chaotic weaving of bodies, but if the beastly woman wished to impress upon him her might he would allow it. By the time the greater fires were lit, and food was called for to soak some of the mead from their bellies Loki found himself in Thor’s company, his shoulder leant against Thor’s chest and one of the Odinson’s hands warm and possessive on his neck.

Loki watched in bored fondness as Thor bested one of his companions in downing his glass with greater speed. They played as children did: with quick-won fleeting glory, and cheers louder than accomplishments. Loki contented himself with sitting to the side, offering up the occasional smile to Thor, proof that his victory over the tin cup was indeed great, and cheering with his fellows. Next to him, the shadow flirted with his bar maid. Loki turned to him as she dragged herself from his side to serve another patron, and used the opportunity to distance himself from the pleasing warmth of Thor’s side.

“You do know her affections could be won with power and gold, both of which you have to spare?” Loki asked, an amused smile sliding over his face that didn’t tell of the great discomfort he felt. 

“Aye, my friend, it is a game is all. I thought you, of all, would understand that,” his fellow replied.

“A game is all and well when there are true stakes and plays to be considered, this is not even worthy of being named a distraction,” Loki told him, hinting of his suspicions. The shadow simply smiled.

“We play such heady games, my lord; a quick and easy victory often boosts the spirit,” he countered, his face showing nothing. “Why, just look to the Odinson and his merry games. You think Thor cares with the ease of which he bests his frothy foe as he downs him in one foul sweep?” The shadow cast a slightly judging gaze over Thor, who was slamming down his cup upon the bar and calling for another. It was good grace that Loki had paid a small amount of coin to the owner of the tavern to overlook such behaviour. 

“Aye, but he wins his victory for the crowd,” Loki reminded him coldly, wondering if he would have to press his discontent with greater force. “In a few years time think of how many will tell their sons and daughters of the great king, the man who sat with them and shared of their cups and toasted and cheered, and when those sons and daughters reach adulthood they will take to arms for a king their fathers and mother spoke so highly of. Every time he raises his cup his army strengthens.” Loki laid out his hand to the shadows shoulder and allowed a small pulse of his magic to burn through his veins, just enough to be felt. “It would do you well to remember who it is you win your victories for.” 

“Yes, my lord,” his shadow replied, suitably cowed. Though unaffected from the outside, Loki knew well enough his message had been received. Loki was just about to return to Thor when the entire tavern erupted in a shout. From the other side of the tavern a story was called for and some bard pushed forth to answer, a youth with nothing more than willow seed on his chin and cautious wavering eyes. Loki had only witnessed the more civilised trade of tale in the great halls of Asgard, but he had lived in enough lands to appreciate the more earthy recounting of tales. It was in the palace that heroes were born, but it was in these mead soaked, rat infested halls that they were given their immortality. Space was made in the centre of the tavern, wide enough for two men to take against each other, but only one stood, the youth, his darting prey like eyes taking in his surroundings. Loki immediately felt ill at ease, but one glance at Thor’s easy stance leaning back against the bar urged him towards calm. 

“Lo, the great glory of Asgard shines its beacon across all the realms, its light vanquishes the monsters of the shadows…” Loki spared an eye roll to his shadow friend, who smirked into his cup. It was pleasant to have something to share after their slight disagreement. “…let lesser realms be the balming morning light that dries the tears bad dreaming stirs. Asgard will be the burning mid-day glory that heats the blood of men to battle.”

“So you’d be the prince’s bitch then?” a voice asked in Loki’s ear. Loki turned, there had been too many bodies forced tight against each other; Loki had not noticed this one press so near. The man was a grizzled old thing, with matted greying hair and beard merging into one, with the plaits of a warrior entwined into his fur. Though the gamey way he leaned on but one leg as he stood told more of a tale of past glory than the braids that pulled back his locks. The Asgardians had been in war with Jottenheim for millennia; old grievances were unlikely to fade like early snow. 

Loki had allowed Thor’s optimism and faith in his people to distract him from the veins of hate that still ran through the Asgardians. And Perhaps he had lingered too long in the safe microcosm of the palace, where all who knew him marked him as Thor’s and knew him beyond their touch. From somewhere near, the story of night and day began in earnest. It was an old tale, which Loki had heard many times over: the story of Dadr of the day and Nott of the night. Dadr was of Asgard, a brave warrior of a man, whereas Nott was the night, the villainous womanly creature, and a Jotun in a more recent revision of the story,. Tthough that had not always been the case., iIt seemed the Asgardian’s were not above shifting their ancient devils into whatever form their current enemy look, and it would be a while yet that the monsters that hid under children’s beds would have blue skin and red eyes. Loki searched for Thor and found him at the other side of the tavern with his fellows engaging in competition once more. It would do no one any good for Thor to hear the man talk to Loki in such a way; Loki’s pride would take a blow with far more grace than the taverns wall might take a hammer. 

“Tell me Jotun…” the man continued, his breath warm and moist on Loki’s neck. “…is it a cock you have between those pretty little legs of yours? Or is it a great dribbling cunt? I suppose it doesn’t much matter, for you’ll spread those legs wide at the king’s pleasure without regard for what lies between. Won’t you? Or maybe he takes you on your knees like the little beast you are.” Loki felt the spark of anger in him, his spear was back in the palace, tucked safe with everything else he treasured, but he had his knives, sharp and ready and the magic that pulsed in his blood; it would be enough to end the life of one drunk. It was tempting, but foolish, and Loki was many things, but he was not a fool.

“Useless words, my fellow. Your words unman me as much as the lark’s call ties my shoes.” He considered the man a moment. “Look unto Thor, the great prince of all of Asgard, you think he needs but a wench in his bed? What maid would refuse him? What soul would deny him anything he sought? That is the future king of Asgard, you would do well to remember that. It would also do you well to remember that he has chosen me, trust that you do not wish to know what deeds I have done that bring me such glory in the eyes of the crown prince that only do I share his council and his bed, but I walk the streets of Asgard as a Jotun without fear,” Loki ended in a whisper meant for the man alone. Without so much as turning his face away, Loki started to clap as the bards tale ended and the routine of the light was settled and divided equally in hours if not in affection.

“A most enchanting tale, indeed bard!” Loki called and the speaker turned to him with flushed cheeks.

“Many thanks for your praise, my lord. Do you have tales in Jottenheim?” he asked in a small voice and Loki refused to roll his eyes at such a foolish thought, for it would be absurd for a land that bore Loki to have no tales. 

“Aye, indeed we do, but this Asgard. Come, my pretty youth, I would have another tale.” Loki raised his glass in cheer and the youth blushed under the attention for a moment before beginning. He told the story of the moon. The tale was old, older than even the feud between the realms. In the story, sky and land battled for the affections of a pretty maid, each attempting to outdo each other with shows of splendour, until finally the sky won her with the stars and the moon ascended to dance with them in the heavens. Loki listened a moment, his mind flickering to his brother, back when he had been but a prince and Loki’s one hope for Jottenheim. He had sat with Loki and told him the story. Of course, it was told differently in Jottenheim: the sky and land did not make shows of themselves, but proved their worth with rational acts that helped the people, grew food, showed the passage of time, and so forth. In the end, it was the stars ability to make record of all, to brand the history of Jottenheim above them and make it so every man might find his way home, that won the moons heart. It was that story which had made Loki look unto his brother and whisper the one truth he would ever give as to how he came to find his way to the palace from the wilderness. ‘The stars,’ he had whispered. ‘I followed the stars.’ Loki was so lost in his own thoughts he barely noticed the drunk had not moved.

“I have a story for you, you Jotun flesh monger.” The man then stumbled into the ring to face the crowd halting the youth’s pleasant tale. He cleared his throat dramatically and the youth moved aside timidly. “Once, there was a great flood and all the creatures of the land were thrown from their homes. Five were thrown onto a strange island with nothing around, but sea,” the drunk told the tavern, his gaze on Loki. His shadow locked a stare with him, but Loki shook his head, urging him to stand down. The shadow didn’t move, but kept watch. “On the island, were a wolf, a bear, a fox, a stag and a scorpion. Of all the creatures, only the scorpion remembered which way was land and which was open sea. First, the scorpion went to the wolf. ‘Wolf, carry me on your back and I shall marshal you to land.’ But the wolf said ‘No, you are a scorpion, you shall sting me and we shall drown, I will take my chance with the sea.’ Next, scorpion went to the bear. ‘Bear, carry me on your back and I shall marshal you to land.’ But the bear said, ‘No, you are a scorpion, you shall sting me and we shall drown, I will take my chance with the sea.’ Next, the scorpion went to the fox. ‘Fox, carry me on your back and I shall marshal you to land.’ But the fox said, ‘No you are a scorpion, you shall sting me and we shall drown, I will take my chance with the sea. Finally, the scorpion went to the Stag. ‘Stag, carry me on your back and I shall marshal you to land.’ The stag said, ‘Certainly’; for he was a stag, a good and noble creature and had never known the lies of others. The stag lowered its mighty head and the scorpion climbed on. A few moments out to sea the scorpion stung the stag, and as they both sunk downwards, the stag turned to the scorpion. ‘Why?’ he asked ‘Now we both die.’ The scorpion looked back and answered ‘You are a stag, it is your nature to trust me, I am a scorpion it is my nature to sting.’” The drunk paused a moment to revel in his story. “So you see, a stag is a stag, a scorpion is a scorpion, and a Jotun is a Jotun.” The drunk spat the last words at Loki. Thor rose from his seat, his hand straying to his hip; even Fandral and Hogun joined him on their feet.

“Now is no time for such talk,” Volstagg called over the tension. “Now is a time for celebration.” 

“Indeed,” Loki agreed, moving to stand in front of Thor to act as a guard between the drunk and his prince. “Unless…was your story supposed to shame me?” Loki asked as if it had just come to his attention. “Why, that was not what I gathered from the tale at all.” Loki pretended to think for a moment. “Oh! Was I supposed to be a reflection of the scorpion in this tale?” Loki asked. “If you must know, I have always fancied myself a magpie, if you must lower me to a beast. Though others have named me a snake and one rather vicious Fae once said I was more suited to a fox made of bramble wire, but I think that was a product of rage rather than a personal attack. Nevertheless, if you think me a scorpion, I suppose it is a good a creature as any,” Loki told him, taking a step back to take his place at Thor’s side and running the tip of his fingers over Thor’s arm. “Though, if I must be a scorpion, could I perhaps be one that is not quite so simple? I have had all manner of vicious words befall me in my life, a great number of them true, but that I would be fool enough to destroy my one hope…that I have never been accused of, and if this is what you do say, my fellow, than you offer me more disservice than the multitudes who cry out against me. Though, in fairness, the scorpion was the only creature with sense enough to remember where the land was, so there is that. I do feel as if I might have added a small, tiny pinch more intelligence to my actual escape route though. Escaping a place with my life is rather a practised skill of mine,” Loki admitted, admiring his nails and leaning against Thor, lounging against him, using him rather unseemingly as a prop, but he would apologise for any harm later. 

“Aye!” Fandral called loudly next to him, distracting the crowd and gaining Loki’s attention. “If it was our Loki on the island, he would have roped the other four together and used them as a raft!” he called and there was laughter from the tavern. 

“Indeed!” Thor added, scooping Loki into a tight embrace. “He could probably convince them it was their idea too.” 

“Now, enough of this dull talk of animals and islands. Come, we should have a great tale of heroes and pretty maids rescued from tall towers,” Fandral cried, winking at Loki broadly. “Now that’s something we might compare our Loki with. Where is our young bard?” Fandral called, shifting through the crowd to drag the youth back into his place, seamlessly pushing aside the drunk, who was immediately picked up by the shadow and whisked away. Loki feared he would have to look again at Thor’s friends, for it seemed they had their uses. “Here, come now lad, make for us a tale of a fine handsome warrior journeying to a cold land of ice with his brave companions…”

“Oh yes, of course we could not forget his brave companions,” Thor agreed, laughing. 

“Well of course,” Volstagg joined in, pressing a mug of ale into both Loki and Thor’s hands. “Why one of his companions should be a man of a most discerning pallet and refined taste,” he told the youth with a sombre tone that was completely ruined by his rosy cheeked grin. 

“Refined pallet!” Fandral scoffed. “You confuse an enthusiasm to try anything vaguely edible with refined, my friend, but have it so, it makes a better tale than if you claim that the hero was accompanied by a man barely distinguishable from a swine.”

“Oh aye, and if he have a swine-like companion, he must also have a preening peacock,” Sif added to Fandral, who rolled his eyes.

“I thought we wanted to move away from animals,” he reminded her.

“Fine, than a pampering dandy of a fellow, a glutton, a….” She surveyed Hogun with great care. “….rock,” Hogun’s eyebrow raised at the comment, but he said nothing. “and a…”

“A maid with a sword,” Fandral added, with a gesture obscene enough to make Loki choke out a laugh.

“Indeed, all came with the hero,” Thor intercepted, grinning at his companions. “But dear bard this next bit it is most important, for it is my favourite in the tale. The prince should came across a huge tower of ice and inside it find the most beautiful, most wondrous…” The crowd groaned at every honey sweetened word of praise he gave to Loki who hid his face within his hands in a mockery of shame. “…most delightful, most enchanting…”

“Scorpion!” Loki interrupted loudly and there were shouts of merriment from all around the tavern.

“Aye, and the hero fell in love with it,” Thor added, tipping up Loki’s chin to kiss him softly before turning to the flustered youth. “Come now, we wait for our tale,” Thor commanded. To his credit the youth did tell the tale, humorous in its absurdity as the brave hero confessed his love of a scorpion to his miss matched followers. It did not take long before the story took on a life of its own and was passed around the tavern like a serving platter, each taking their share. By the end of Loki’s next glass, the hero was travelling to the land of the elves to search for a cure to his beloveds venom, who had struck him by accident in a lovers embrace, his lips swollen twice the size to make him unable to talk, when he was mistaken for a gigantic bear. At Loki’s side, Fandral pulled his arm to beg a moment of his time. Loki leaned towards him.

“You might want to know, my lord, the drunk has been seen to. Nerfi took him to the guards. He sleeps tonight in a cell, perhaps stone and iron will make him look others with more respect,” Fandral told him. Loki smiled at him in thanks.

“I know you do this for your master, but you have my thanks also, Fandral,” Loki told him.

“I do not do this only for him. We have been Thor’s friends for many many years, if he will have you by his side for all time, I would know you better,” Fandral purposed.

“Indeed, Thor’s coronation is a chance for all of us that care for the Odinson to join together,” Loki replied with the calm even tones of a negotiator.

“Agreed, now take your prince back to bed before he passes out and we must send for the goats to carry him back…again.” Loki bowed in agreement and took Thor’s arm to lead him away.

“Come my prince, it is time to slumber” he coaxed.

“Ah, my beloved scorpion, come let me kiss you,” Thor called drunkenly into Loki’s neck as if he was on the other side of the tavern and not pressed into his skin. He pulled back and placed a very sloppy kiss on Loki’s mouth.

“Watch out you won’t want swollen lips for your coronation, Thor!” Volstagg cheered.

“Oh, I do not think it is his lips Loki swells!” Fandral added with an obscene waggle of his eyebrows. Loki laid his hand on his chest as if he was mortified, gasping in air and then quickly looking away.

“Come, my prince, to bed with you before your friends scandalise me more,” he simpered and Thor scoffed merrily at the idea. Thor tripped many times on the way back to the palace. In the end, Loki was forced to drag him back to his chambers. He laid Thor out on his bed and began to unlace his boots for him. “You had much to drink tonight, Odinson,.” Loki said, clucking his tongue at him.

“Aye, I am to be king, it is a celebration.” Thor was a terrible liar. The untruth almost stopped Loki’s hands as they pulled at the tight leather straps of his boots, but he knew he would get nothing of worth from Thor in this state. “You will…you will come lay with me?” Thor asked in a small voice, his arm thrown over his eyes as if shielding them from a great light. Loki pulled off his boots and then started on his armour humming his agreement.

“I suppose, it does no good to anyone if the next king of Asgard dies choking upon his own tongue in a drunken stupor,” Loki told the room as Thor’s snores began.

~~~~L/T~~~~  
The sky opened above Thor and darkness breached through the day as an invader. Shards of pitch blackness rained down from the sky and the flames grew taller and taller and taller until they consumed all they touched. Thor turned, seeking any foe he might come against, only to find nothing but flames and ash and the heat of Asgard melting around him. He saw his fellows strewn around him. There was Volstagg just to his left, his face bloodied almost unrecognisable, his wife and children mourning around him, his wife’s pretty welcoming face turning pinched and sour with hate as she screeched his blame. Then several yards from them lay Fandral, his own sword running him through. Hogun was nearby Fandral, his arms caught by the fire, but his body didn’t move, already too long dead to feel his burning. To his right lay Sif, her beauty stripped from her like a cored fruit and left strewn on the ground. Closest to his side was Loki, perfect, wondrous Loki so darkened by flame he was little more than bone. In the centre was his father, blessedly alive, his head lifting from his slumber, one eye finding Thor amidst the chaos. He spoke not a word, made not a sound, but the look was word enough. Guilt and shame and fear spun in a whirlpool around him, his chest felt too small to contain his heart and lungs, there wasn’t enough air within him and all he took in was acrid with smoke.   
Something shook him hard and he gasped for air, finding himself safe within his chambers, a cool blue hand running over his shoulders.

“What troubles you, Thor?” Loki asked, his hands soothing down Thor’s skin, freezing the sweat fear had coated him with. 

“A nightmare,” Thor confessed in a small voice, hiding his head within his hands, not wanting to see whatever expression was waiting for him on his beloved’s face.

“A nightmare?” Amusement tainted Loki’s voice, and his hand stilled on Thor. “I had thought that the mighty Thor was above such petty emotions as fear.” Thor sighed at his mocking and curled himself away from Loki. “Thor…what…what is it that troubles you? What do you fear? Tell me.”

“What if I fail?” Thor asked him in a quiet voice. “What if I ruin Asgard?” Thor was a hero, a mighty warrior, doubt was never supposed to touch him and if it was a monster standing with weapon raised against him he would enter the fray without question or pause. However, this was no monster, this was Asgard, his beautiful home and pride; the land he had brought Loki into to save him from his brutal race. He was terrified of failing and bringing shame to his people, of Loki despising this land and leaving, of his father waking up and shuddering at what had become of Asgard under his name. Thor was a protector, and he had faith in his fellows. Each of his companions had at some point been spoken ill of: Volstagg was no warrior he was thought a greedy boaster, Hogun was too solemn with none of the fire of battle in him, Fandral was too flippant and would be more suited to the court than the battle field, and Sif was ridiculed for one of her sex daring to want to be a warrior. Each of them had proven their worth a hundred times to Thor and to Asgard. But Thor, no one questioned Thor; he had never proven himself, never needed to, and now the kingdom was to be placed in his hands as his birth right. 

“You will not,” Loki reassured him with a stony resolve.

“But…” 

“You will not, Thor,” Loki told him with a slight grin over his face. “For one, I will not allow it.” Loki’s smirk widened until realisation crossed his face. “Thor, is this truly the first time in your life you have felt fear? True fear I mean, not the shivers of a boy who has climbed too high and cannot find the ground.” Thor nodded in shame. “How utterly ridiculous!” Loki laughed a loud chuckle that seemed so misplaced in the quiet of the morning.

“Loki, please do not mock me, you cannot understand….”

“I cannot understand!” Loki laughed again as if Thor was the most ridiculous creature he had ever seen. “My wondrous prince, one such as I lives in fear constantly, if I have not   
felt it’s icy grip upon me, I know that the sun has not yet set. I must say I rather envy you your first rush into fear.” Loki shifted to grip Thor’s face in his hands, leaning up slightly on his haunches so he towered over Thor, as if he meant to protect him. “Listen well, my prince and soon king, you will take this land as your own, and you will not fail, you will be magnificent, because I have decreed it, and you will feel fear, fear even greater than this…but you will overcome it. You will stand in the golden halls of Asgard a victor, and for the first time in your ridiculous life, you shall know what it is to overcome your fears. Trust in me Thor, you will not fail Asgard, you are Asgard.” Thor stared into the red pupils of his beloved and believed every word spoken to him. He was indeed a fool, Asgard would be his and, like everything he loved in his life, he would protect it. He reached out and grabbed Loki pulling him tight before flipping them over so Loki lay sprawled out under him on the bed, his hands besides his head in some false show of surrender. Thor caged him inwards with his body and stole a deep kiss, the lingering sourness of his dream replaced with the sweet flavour of Loki.

“You will not need to fear in my Asgard,” Thor swore to him, biting gently at his neck. 

“That is a mighty promise you make, Odinson,” Loki told him with a chuckle as Thor pushed one leg between Loki’s own that he might grind their bodies together. 

“The king of Asgard has no need for small oaths,” Thor said, tracing Loki’s collar with his lips. 

“Ah, but you are not King yet,” Loki reminded him and managed to crawl out from underneath him and escape the bed. “And since you are awoken early this morning, we have better use of this time than wasting it in bed. I have much to plan for the celebrations,” Loki told him using his art to clothe himself and tidy his hair. “I want all of Asgard to be dripping in your colours, so not a street nor hall fails to proclaim its joy in your crowning,” Loki told him smugly. “And you have much to do, your people will expect a speech at your crowning, I want you to spend the rest of the day in contemplation of what you might wish to say. I have no doubt that most shall be unusable, but I shall construct some sense of it later.” Thor groaned and collapsed back upon his bed.

“You are worse than the scholars my father sent to tutor me,” Thor complained. Loki laughed light and cheerful.   
“Aye, but I give much better rewards,” he promised in a low voice before disappearing out of the room without another word.


	26. The ugly side of the crown

Part 26 The ugly side of the crown  
Loki groaned and let his head sink to the table, laying it briefly against the wooden grain of the library desk. Stress made little tendrils of ice creep away from him as if they were but searching vines and Loki was the very heart of a frigid stem. It had been three days since he had last set sights on his bed. What little rest he had allowed himself had been taken in fleeting moments at his desk, it was barely enough to keep him functioning. It had also been three days since he had set sights on Thor. Needless to say, he was far from contented.

“I detest Bureaucracy!” Loki growled out, throwing away another well laid, but flaw ridden, plan. The shadow chuckled behind him, having long since taken the job of Loki’s second in the organisation of the coronation.

“Nay, Loki, you adore bureaucracy,” he countered. “Why, is was you who fashioned a seven page doctrine on the welfare and humane handling of goats so intricate and heavy worded that the dwarves never noticed you have them foreswear to only forge lesser weapons for any realm but Asgard.”

“Indeed,” Loki agreed. The contract was binding, in word and magic; even if it was broken, the dwarves would be locked into compensating Asgard so greatly they would not have coin enough to buy the wood for their fires. “More I detest it as an enemy then. Never would I be clumsy enough to fall upon my own staff, so I see not why I should have my shield turned inwards so.” Loki poured over the names of those invited to the coronation and sighed. “Would that I could look to some precedent of this, but there have been none. We stride over fresh snow here, and who can tell what pits await us under our very feet.”

“There I must agree with you, my lord,” his shadow said, collecting the various books of the realms histories from around Loki, being careful to mark open pages with strips of ribbon. “As a shadow, I find greater comfort in laying my feet in the indents of another than carving my own footfalls.” Loki ignored him and instead wrote his brother’s name large upon a parchment before making a list of all the others he might come into contact with. “You think your brother is a threat?” the shadow asked in interest.

“My dear shadow, I think everyone is a threat. At least Helblindi’s actions are unquestionably easy to predict.”

“Because he is your brother,” the shadow stated with certainty enough to make Loki bark out a laugh.

“Nay, for I am his brother, and do you think he could fathom even one of my thoughts? Of course he could not. Helblindi’s motives are as inevitable as the passing of the time in a day. He could no more surprise me than the sun could spin around the moon. He is a good man, and good men always act the same.” 

“And this spells ill for us?” the shadow asked, taking a seat nearby. However, Loki gave him no regard. “Did you not by-pass the natural right of kings to have him upon the throne for that same reason?”

“Oh yes, when it comes to internal affairs, nothing my brother could do would please me more than the honest application of a little compassion, but when it comes to matters outside Jottenheim…well, my brother would commit all his resources to aiding a mission of mercy.” Loki spat out the word as if it was to be detested. 

“And who do you suspect him of being so merciful to?”

“Why, Svalterheim, of course. Both realms are former enemies of Asgard, both still shake with the last tremors of a great war, and both kings are still new to ruling. He will see a refection of himself in Eseross in circumstance and will mistake this for a reflection in heart. The king of the dark elves might forget his fear of me if he thinks he could have a whole army of my kin at his beck and call.” Loki glowered slightly at the thought, for while he may not give anything as foolish as loyalty to Jottenheim, he had done much to ensure its flourishing, and he would have nothing destroy his efforts. 

“So, we shall keep them in distance from each other,” the shadow concluded with a nod, and Loki never thought him a true simpleton until them. 

“Nay, I want them as close as they can be. We shall tell Eseross that he will gain our favour if he belittles Helblindi as much as he can; instruct him in this way before he could ever ponder the idea of uniting their power. On his other side, put the dwarves, they already will give him grief for thought that it will appease me; I think they assume I am embittered in my banishment. Helblindi must look around and see not monsters or enemies, but certainly no friends. The only hand in outreach must be Asgard, and even that shall be in a great show of reluctance.” Loki already had a very unfair trade agreement drafted to be signed by his brother that promised Asgard a large supply of its goods. Jottenheim did not have gold like Asgard or Svalterheim, but it did have a vast array of precious stones, mostly overlooked by the Jotun’s. It also had great wells of natural magic flowing in streams through the ice, as well as the best tanners in all the realms. Indeed, Jottenheim could be a wealth of bounty, if only others knew what to request. 

“You truly think other realms will use this as an opportunity to form alliance; to plot against each other?” the shadow asked, disbelief playing languidly in his voice.

“Of course. It was the first thought in my mind, why not another’s? Having eight of the realms together in one place…why, there has never been so great a chance to shake all of Yggdrasil’s branches.”

“You talk as if you mean to yoke all the realms to you,” the shadow scoffed, though the light in his eyes told a different tale: a glimmer of excitement at the thought. 

“Nay, it cannot be done,” Loki declared flatly. “It has been tried before with blood, fire, ice, steel, and even magic; but the realms are too out spread that it becomes impossible. Some uprising is always inevitable, and you cannot fight from all directions.” Loki thought for a moment, leaning backwards in his chair to lift the front two legs from the floor. 

“Now, if I could but close off all other pathways between the realms until the Bifrost alone could cross the void, make of Asgard a port in the centre of the great tree, and then use the Bifrost’s power to cripple all other realms, you might perhaps rule over all; but alas such an act would take a great amount of power to achieve and maintain, and while my power is not modest, even one such as I would be but ash if all other practitioners of the art came against me as one. However, just because we must aim our sights lower does not mean that we cannot reap the benefits at all…or we would if I could fathom this blasted list!” Loki ended with a grumble, pouring his gaze over the list once more. At least he did not have to think of Midgard in his considerations, for it hung low enough on Yggdrasil’s branches that its shoots were still young and green.

Loki was halfway through pondering if Hel’s beast lords were creatures given noble titles or masters over beasts and what the consequences of accidently listing a bone-serpent higher than an Alfheim war mage might be when his already ramshackle thoughts were broken by a familiar knock upon his door. Loki lifted his head and stared at the closed door, knowing that Thor was on the other side. It was at once both welcomed and not, for while he would admit in the privacy of his own heart that he had missed the sight of the Odinson, he would undoubtedly distract him from his work. Without waiting for an answer, though, Thor entered. Loki snapped his head back to his work at once, catching but streaks of silver and blue in the peripherals of his vision. However, Thor was unknowingly cruel, and soon large warm hands settled upon his forehead brushing errant strands of his hair away from his face. 

“Loki,” Thor crooned his name like he was an unsettled hound. “When did you last rest?”

“I have taken slumber. Do nor fret,” Loki snapped back, turning over his parchment to a detailed diagram of the great hall. 

“Aye, only at his desk and when he wakes he is straight to work once more.” Loki glared at the shadow for his betrayal with those words and felt Thor wrap both arms around Loki’s shoulders and the familiar bump of his silver chest plate knock gently against the back of his head before Thor’s chin rested on his shoulder. 

“Come, I was heading for the baths, join me.” It was a plea whispered softly into his ear. “I feel as if I have caught but glimpses of you in mirrors. Let me see you, for my peace if not your own.”

“The baths? With you, Odinson?” Loki scoffed, shaking Thor off his person and batting his hands away. “I have always thought of baths for cleaning, my prince. I think your thoughts would much sully the water. Now, unless you have words of great need, I must request you leave me to my task.” The prince sighed, and still Loki refused to look upon him. 

“Hogun asked me to send word to you,” he muttered sullenly and finally Loki turned to look at him. Thor was just as majestic as he feared, and Loki wanted nothing more than to push away his parchments and allow the brute to guide him to the baths. After nothing but the yellowing of parchment and the spindly black of his own penmanship, the sight of Thor was brighter than the sun, brighter even than the blue streaks of lighting his lover could call from the sky. A hundred thoughts marched through his mind of what he might do, but he forced himself to nod tightly. “He says that while the archers of Asgard are fine worriers indeed, to have sixty men all make the same shot to string up thirty banners, when the rings are so small, is too much to ask, and we must think of some solutions if one or two of the arrows should miss their marks.” Loki sighed. Whomever had taken his request to Hogun had obviously not understood his words as well as they claimed. 

“Well Asgard is certainly lucky that an army of steel rings have never risen up against them if that is all it takes to make them question their skill. Never mind, for, at least, I am not so shaken by this enemy. Tell Hogun that all the men must concern themselves with is making it appear as if the arrows will go through the holes. I shall be using my magic to thread our little needles,” Loki assured him.

“Will that not be a distraction? You shall be at the front and centre beside the queen. If you were to call on your art all shall see. What would be the profit of making it seem as if it is nothing but the archer’s skill if all shall see you?” Thor asked, a frown etched on his face. Loki took in a deep breath, for he knew the Odinson would not much like to hear what he was about to say.

“By the queen? Whatever gave you such a thought? Nay, I shall be hidden from all, somewhere quiet where I might watch for disaster.” Thor’s face fell at Loki’s words; it was exactly as Loki had predicted.

“You mean to tell me that upon my own coronation I shall not have my beloved beside me? This is madness, Loki,” Thor told him, confusion and hurt turning to anger. Thor’s hands reached out to grasp at Loki, as if he might grip him tight and long enough to drag him to his side for the coronation. Loki held back a shiver; there was something maddeningly tempting in the Odinson’s brute strength. Loki slipped from Thor’s hands, but stood to join him, laying his own hands on Thor’s arms.

“Nay, it is caution. We have a saying in Jottenheim. It takes but one bad step to fall through ice; the wise man treads with care,” Loki advised sagely, before relaxing his grip on Thor. The prince seemed slightly appeased by Loki’s words and made no more argument, but rested his hand on Loki’s cheek and went as if to kiss him until Loki pulled back with a simple warning look to the shadow. Thor sighed and pressed their foreheads together once before retiring from the room. Once the prince had vanished from sight, the shadow smirked at him. 

“I have known some of your kin, my lord, but never have I known any but you to be fond of turns of phrase. Besides, is not the ice of your home as thick as seas are deep, with naught under their surfaces but more ice? Why, even Thor’s hammer could strike against it for days to little distress.” Loki smiled at his servant’s observation.

“Yes, but words always seem to carry more weight if it seems as if they have been spoken by many tongues.” His face fell and his jaw tightened. “Besides, Asgard sits precariously close to falling; now is not the time for anything as flimsy as the truth.” 

“Loki, you have been running through this some problem for hours now; why not take a break, relax yourself?” the shadow suggested. Loki lifted his head and looked at the closed door that Thor had left; the invisible pull of the Odinson tugged at him, and he thought for one selfish moment of joining him in the baths. 

“Besides,” Loki grinned at the shadow, “I am sure there is a pretty young bar maid who is most sorry to miss the sight of you.” The shadow smiled back in agreement.

“That same thought may have crossed my mind,” the shadow admitted in an offhand fashion. 

“Well then, both of us shall spend some time in distraction and convene back here in a few hours,” Loki stated and watched as his shadow friend’s face lit with slight relief before they packed away their documents and left.

~~~L/T~~~

Thor lounged in the baths of Asgard, allowing the heat and steam to cleanse his mind of its preoccupations. Loki had been a most challenging master in readying them both for the coronation. Thor’s early images of the two of them united in the planning of this, stealing kisses as they ordered others to do the busy work, seemed now to be foolish. Most days he heard nothing of Loki, other than a servant bringing him a letter with some command or other. It seemed that even Thor’s shield brothers were gifted with more of Thor’s beloved’s time than he was. He knew that Loki moved for his own good, but the lack of him was still felt like an open wound. Thor shut his eyes and allowed the cinnamon scent he had poured liberally into the baths to conjure up at least the ghost of his lover. He tilted his head backwards and breathed deep, imagining what it might be like if Loki did join him, wondering if the water would be too warm for his skin, if he might choke on the scents Thor used, or if he might blush if Thor swept his hand over Loki’s body with the pretence of washing.

“It is nice to know you have such time for leisure while I work myself to desperation, my future king.” Thor’s eyes snapped open at Loki’s words, for no other could talk with such bored affection. Loki stood at the edge of the baths, leaning against one pillar as if the clouds of steam were some magical barrier to keep them parted.

“Loki,” Thor breathed, moving forwards, upsetting the water so much it splashed over the edge of the bath and flooded over the golden floor until it reached Loki’s bared feet. The Jotun flinched slightly before casting his hand in a sweeping motion; thick boots soon covered his feet in protection. “Do you…do you wish to join me?” Thor asked, unable to keep the naked plea from his tones.

“I think not, Odinson,” Loki smirked, gesturing down to his feet.

“I could chill the water for your comfort.” Thor suggested eagerly.

“Nay, what good will it do? The water will either be too hot for me or too cold for you and neither will be satisfied.” Loki used his art to craft a seat, seemingly from the steam itself. It was a pretty thing, reminiscent of the sweeping round edges of the light elves work, but more delicate, as if some large plant opened its mouth for nothing more than Loki’s pleasure. Even as he took to his seat and slung his heavy booted feet over the edge of one of the arms, it moulded further to his body: rolling to elevate his legs to comfort, whilst dipping to curve around and pillow his shoulders. 

“I would have thought you would enjoy compromise,” Thor noted.

“Nay, compromise is just a failure by a pretty name, but pretty names have such use. When forced to loose, oft time opponents become embittered, roiled by the indignity of giving so much. It is wise to make them think that everyone has lost some in the gaining, to make a show of wanting that which you would give up without pause in order to placate, and in the doing so you win all the more,” Loki told him, surveying his nails with interest.

“And is that what we shall be doing when all the realms come together? Making a show of compromise?” Thor asked, moving to settle himself at the edge of the great sunken bath, so he might lay his arms upon its edge and gaze at Loki.

“Nay, you shall give nothing. I should not have your first duty as king to be to simper and lower yourself to another’s petty wants unless they are my own. You shall take all and others shall be happy just in the giving to such a one as you.” Loki flashed Thor a smirk, the red of his eyes gleaming in the light. “But there shall be others who might be making the occasional ‘compromise’ in dealings that I may or may not be privy to the design of,” Loki told him.

“Loki, it shall be my coronation, the first time all the godly realms have been brought together since Yggdrasil first reached for light; it is a time for compassion and friendship,” Thor told him, pleading with him to see his point. Loki simply looked at him a moment before shifting once again, this time so he hung upside down with his legs bent at the knee hanging over the back of his chair, his head hanging upside down staring right at Thor. The Prince could not help but wonder if he now found it difficult to find comfort after so long hunched over his desk. 

“I shudder to think what would have been if you had been left to rule alone. By the norns, you would have sold your kingdom to a serf for a button,” Loki laughed. “Besides, what matters if there are dealings if all concerned think it is but friendly business?”

“Because you move them without their knowledge, Loki,” Thor turned to explain. He had thought that over time Loki might have conceded that Asgard was a place of noble dealings and changed his methods; instead, he had brought his own ways to Asgard, and, as much as it pained the prince to admit it, Asgard flourish for it.

“That is not my fault, it is their’s . My words are but noise until they are listened to.” Loki heaved himself up and brought his legs around, sitting in a kneeling position, as if he was about to take to deep concentrated thinking on his seat, only marred by the casual flop of his arms against the rests of his chair. “Each act we do is but a show, a mark no more discernable in shape and intent than the murky outline of the clouds. You might look upon one and see a dog, loyal and true, a man’s companion, but another might see a wolf, a violent creature of the woods. Now if I were to come upon you and point to you a cloud and claim: ‘there, that shape is undoubtedly a dog’, you might look and see but a dog, and yet is that shape you might have thought a wolf not still there? Is the call of my words enough to erase such an interpretation from existence? Of course it is not. I can suggest, I can manipulate, but only because others give me that power. I can talk all I like of dogs, but there are still wolves, and if others cannot understand that then they deserve to see naught but what I tell them too.”

“But you work yourself to exhaustion; it is too much, even for one such as you! It is already a burden that you take on all the construct of the ceremony itself, and now you concern yourself with the comings and goings of all the realms,” Thor told him, the worry clear in his voice.

“First of all, there is nothing in all the realms that is ‘too much’ for me; erase that thought from your mind at once and never dare speak such a thing again,” Loki chided him lazily. “And second, when after this will I have opportunity to do so much? Come, stand before me Odinson,” Loki command and Thor at once heaved himself up from the bath and took the few steps that would allow him to reach Loki. He watched with a slight amount of pride as Loki turned his gaze over his body, lingering in passing on points of interest. Thor walked until he stood near enough for Loki to reach out and touch him. Slowly one of Loki’s blue limbs reached out and took Thor’s right arm in one hand and brought it up to his face; a cold gust of breath ghosted over Thor’s skin and he watched mesmerised as the lingering drops for the bath hardened to ice on his skin before shattering off in small explosions under the tension of his muscles. “You have always known what I am, my precious fool, you would not deny me my nature now, surely?” Loki’s breath was followed by his lips, not precisely a kiss, but the sweet drag of the plump flesh of his lower lip over the shivering flesh of Thor’s bare arm. 

“I think I can deny you nothing,” Thor confessed, his other hand reaching for the back of Loki’s head to bury his fingers in Loki’s dark hair and pull him upwards for a kiss. Loki allowed it; his body almost limp under Thor’s touch, the slight smirk of his features evident against Thor’s own lips. Thor knew the creature that Loki was, and even if he could never change him, he would have him still. Icy hands wandered over Thor’s body as he took more of Loki’s lips, pushing them open with his own. He felt chilled digits pass over his sides, mapping the muscles of his stomach, running the curve of his rib cage and over the shape of his bicep before skimming lower caressing the bones of his hips and whispering over the muscle of his thighs. 

Thor allowed Loki his exploration, welcomed it even, but made no move to reciprocate, simply let Loki have full reign of him. Thor had shut his eyes to better dwell on the exquisite taste of Loki under his tongue, apples and sharp wine muted with vanilla, so he had not noticed the chair alter until Loki dragged him backwards and nothing impeded their way merely stretched out and allowed them to lay down. Thor’s body was pulled over Loki’s until he could stand no more and allowed Loki to take his weight for a moment before his knees took up the task, sprawled out on top of his beloved. 

Loki moved, using both hands to grip him hard and kissed him thoroughly, taking claim of him. Loki pulled him down so tight that the air huffed out of his lungs over Loki’s lips, much to a pleased smirk. Thor stared down at him a moment, wondering where this attitude had arisen from, but it was hard to keep his thoughts focused while Loki stared at him; his tongue wetting his lips in show rather than necessity. Knowledge of its intent did nothing to stop Thor following its motion and he captured Loki’s lips once more, pressing harder than he had dared to before. Thor purposefully tested his limits kissing Loki until they both had no choice but to part, sucking air into burning lungs before reaching for each other all over again. Pressing his thumb into the indent of Loki’s left hip just above where his loincloth began hard enough that it would undoubtedly bruise, Thor traced the slightly raised ridges of Loki’s flesh with his lips, his tongue and, finally, his teeth until Loki succumbed to one shuddering gasp.

It was intoxicating to be with Loki in this way, nothing like the maids of Thor’s youth; they had certainly never clutched him tighter as he exerted just enough strength to show his might, never raked their nails down his back almost in praise if he had sucked roughly at the skin of their necks, it brought him almost to the point of madness. Thor reached between them to grasp Loki’s thigh and hauled it upwards to wrap it around Thor’s own back, the thickness of his boot knocking against his flank, but bringing them closer together. The thin flimsy fabric that Loki used to keep his modesty was easy enough to yank away from them and press them most intimately together. Thor’s skin was still slightly damp and it turned colder where Loki’s chill touched him, but soon warmed with the friction of their flesh sliding together. Under him Loki gasped and twisted his body.

Thor paused, wondering if he had been too rough with his beloved, but his recess earned him nothing but a scowl and a claw like hand reaching into his wet hair and dragging him back down. The hand in his hair tugged as he moved away, but he paid it no mind, descending down Loki’s perfect body, kissing and biting whatever flesh he exposed. When his teeth grazed one dark nipple Loki let out a moan. Thor lifted his eyes to catch Loki grinning back at him, his eyes blown black and smiling as if he had won some victory in bringing Thor to this point, stealing control away from Thor even as he lay out under him seemingly at his mercy. Thor lifted back to his lips, unable to stay away any longer, rutting his sex against the dip of Loki’s hip as if he were nothing more than a beast. Loki just slid his hands to Thor’s lower back, gripping over the base of his spine and pushed back, tearing away from Thor’s kiss to bit hard at his neck; hard enough for Thor to pull back with a hiss, but Loki still gazed at him vicious and pleased. Thor reached between them, raking his hand over Loki’s own length, soon joined by Loki’s own grasp tightening his hold around him and forcing his rhythm. He then leaned forward, biting at his lip until it almost seemed purple between the crisp row of Loki’s sharp white teeth. Loki stared at him, still panting and shuddering under Thor’s attention, but ultimately in control of his every move.

“Tell me you want me,” he demanded in a tight whisper, quiet not in the timid voice of a fresh lover, but dark and secretive and wondrously Loki. 

“I want you,” Thor breathed back, as it was hopeless to deny the truth. 

“You want me even though all of your people, the goodly swarm of Asgard, those who look to you for everything, think me nothing but a villainous serpent?” Loki asked, spreading his legs to make a place for Thor between them.

“Aye,” Thor hissed back, releasing Loki’s sex to spread him further, past the point where the muscles in Loki’s legs must have been able to feel the burn or the stretch. Loki moved, his hand descending between them, gripping them both in his hand, aligning them so the sensitive heads bumped against each other, the wetness of Loki’s excitement joining with Thor’s own making the languid way that Loki moved an easy glide. Thor shuddered against his own will.

“What troubles you?” Loki asked in his ear. “Tell what it is you desire, and maybe I will give it to you.” Thor growled at his teasing, unable to help the little surges of his hips in time with Loki’s maddeningly slow strokes. 

“I want you, I just want you,” Thor admitted, and Loki laughed breathlessly in his ear, and soon the hand upon them sped up working them to completion, twisting at the heads and gripping at the base almost wring the climax out of Thor. Loki’s free hand clutched tight against Thor’s thigh, his nails digging into the flesh there as his back arched marvellously exposing the line of his throat, and with one last shaky thrust of his hips Loki shuddered his way through completion, Thor’s name unabashedly loud from his lips. Thor groaned, bending down to bite at Loki’s neck as he followed him into the abyss. Loki chuckled under him as they both took ragged breaths together. His hands, messy with both of their seed, running over Thor’s back for a moment before pushing him away. He gathered his loincloth and righted himself, smirking in a satisfied manner at Thor before gripping his face in one hand, placing the smallest of kisses on his lips and then pushing Thor back towards the baths.

“Go, I rather think you need another bath,” he told him, before using his art to cleanse himself and walking away muttering of Aesir and their unseemly ways, as if half the wetness drying on Thor’s back and thighs was not his own fault. Thor watched him go with a smile, for Loki would ever be Loki, but that was hardly a flaw.


	27. stolen treasures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> loki goes down to the vaults and looks at the various treasures of Asgard

Part 27 Stolen treasures

Loki did not get lost. He merely wandered and found himself wherever he needed to be. He had started his journey travelling the palace, looking for potential threats to the coronation which loomed the next day. He found himself deep within the chasms of Asgard. Loki detested the feeling of enclosure and he had never felt it as keenly as he did then. No trickle of welcoming breeze blew through any gaps. No sunlight snuck as a serpent to cast beams of natural light on the floor. There was only the feeling of Asgard; a weight on top of him, threatening to bear down and crush him. The gold had petered away, slowly edging off into cold, grey brick. Dribbles of water dragged down its strict perfect lines in lazy drops. Calcifying to white or blurring into green with moss. The drums of supper sounded heavy as an armies march without the playful lute or boisterous singing that accompanied them. Only the discorded drip of water and the ominous creek of the palace above added harmony to the thudding melody. Loki walked briskly over the uneven floor, his bare feet scratched by the imperfections crumbling out of the stones. To his left the blackness came to life, the interlacing ribbons of metal of the Asgardian sentinel wove together as the creature half rose from the depths. 

“Return to your rest, Destroyer, but not too deep in your slumber. I might have need of you tomorrow,” Loki whispered and the creature dissolved back into its parts like a discarded robe. The amber light of its fires the last thing to dim out of sight. 

Loki had descended down, past the bright torch lit halls where his lover sat and drank and listened to the exaggerated tales of long dead heroes. Past the empty cells awaiting the disloyal of Asgard, even past the limits of the destroyers pit, until he came to the great treasures of the golden city. The call of home and kin hummed in the air like the faint call of a siren on the wind. Tempting, but easily ignored for larger things. While it did not move him to foolish acts it did root him in place. The air took on the evergreen scent of winter, and even the rocks beneath his feet seemed not chilled with their distance from the hearths of the great halls, but tinged with the sharpness of a new snow. It was not hard for Loki to realise what had called him to that place.

The heart of Jottenheim beat numbly before him, like some sedated beast. Loki was too young to remember a time when it had sat in the centre of the ice palace. But he had stood before the torn open wound it had left. Bodiless sculpted hands reached towards each other, the fingers filed flat at the edges. Sharp straight lines to sit something precious within, but empty of all offering. Loki had never thought that he would see the casket of ancient winters, and yet it sat before him within the reach of his hands. It was a curious item for any who knew the Jotuns, for it seemed crafted without thought to their own kind. He never suspected that the box might curve as it did on either side. The Jotun’s always held a preference for straight efficient lines or fierce jagged edges. But it dipped as if meant to be born forth by a grasp on either side. Even stranger it seemed more fitted to a lesser grip such as Loki’s own then the clumsy clutch of his brethren. It made Loki ponder if the Jotun’s had once been of a more diminished size, and perhaps he himself was some evolutionary throwback and not a runt at all. It mattered little as he was no less the freak in being of such a limited statue for being weak then as if he had been born with the Jotun equivalent of a vestigial tail.

The casket was marked, as all Jotun’s were, with the spiralling raised lines of their birth. Loki could pick out and trace those that he remembered from his own father’s frame, some from his brother’s and even echoed over his own flesh. The colour was the same clear blue as the ice at the very centre of the palace in Jottenheim and it cast its light over its ill-favoured son, smearing its mark over the white linen around his waist until it bled the same tone as his skin. 

Its power rippled over Loki, enforcing the flat lines of his lips to be thrown from smile to frown as it flickered over him. It was at once familiar and yet so distant. Loki had never given much credit to the crass spread of ice most of his kin used in battle. A blade of ice forged to flesh is all well when one means to use it for brute force, but steel staffs were easier to swirl in a grasp. He had given even less regard to the whirling spirals of frost the masons of Jottenheim buried into their craft. Loki had always seen it as limiting, for why should he merely freeze when he could burn or crush or poison? Loki had learnt all the elements as a child, and mastered them as an adolescent. He had looked down on the seidr wielders of Jottenheim as they froze their words in the air, and wondered how such an act ever seemed enough to satisfy them. But there, in the glow of the casket, he understood at once. There had been a time when it had been enough. When the power of the casket flowed through them. Already Loki could feel it seeking him out. Such an enormous amount of power, easily enough to fill him, to rip him apart and send him scattering through the realms. He could turn the whole palace to ice with nothing more than a wave of his hand. Perhaps another man would have, but Loki was no such creature. Instead he looked on at another dusty obsolete weapon hanging on the walls of a victors trophy room.

“If you asked, he would give it to you,” Loki didn’t flinch at the sound of the queen’s voice behind him. Her reflection shimmered in gold over the blue relic before him. 

“I do not want it,” Loki told her, surprising himself in its truth. “All the effort I took to secure my banishment from Jottenheim and you would give me the tools to transform Asgard into its reflection?” Loki scoffed languidly. The object called to him again ‘mine’ in a needy brattish manner, easy to push aside.

“You could give it to your brother?” she suggested coming to stand beside him, the glow of the object casting her almost as kin if Loki were one so swayed by cheap illusions.

“What for? To win favours with him? If you think that I am one who seeks favours merely to have them you are more fool than I would have given credit to. A smile and a show of contrition would give me enough favour with Helblindi to last a lifetime even as long as our own. Or perhaps you think I would give it to heal Jottenheim? Also a fool’s dreaming. I would never give Jottenheim the power to rule with a fist once more. I will not have them lose one tyrant to simply exchange him for another. Besides, losing the casket forced Jottenheim to find other ways, to change and evolve. Nothing remains if it is allowed to stagnate,” he chanced a smirk at the queen. “Asgard would do well to learn that lesson.”

“Oh, I think it learns it as we speak, from a most fine teacher it seems,” Frigga replied with an enigmatic smile that set Loki’s teeth on edge for he never did well with not knowing. “So, tell me, Loki, if not for a chance to play the thief why do you stand here before our treasures?”

“Your treasures?” Loki sneered at the casket. “I see no treasures of Asgard here. Merely lost relics of other lands. The casket of Jottenheim. The tablet of Atlantis. Sutre’s eternal flame…what I see here are the spoils of war. The skill and labour of others taken as your own. Even Mjolnir was made of the hands of dwarves. Asgard has only one creation of its own worth a boast, only one treasure worthy of value, and tomorrow I will have him crowned as king.” 

“And yet you are not by his side,” the queen observed. “You could have taken this time to bask in his own sight, this wondrous glory of Asgard you claim my son to be. Instead you are here.”

“Tomorrow we will be besieged from all sides. Each attacker taking the face of a friend, hands outstretched with gift and kindly words. But know that they all come with steal and fire and hate enough to turn this palace to ash. Is it some eternal failing of Asgard to not look at the dangers? Do you all see the blade and think of nothing but the skill of its craft and not its intent?” Loki asked, perplexed by the attitude of the Asgardians.

“Indeed, I do see the dangers. I have looked over every single one of your lists and records of the many threats this coronation brings. For weeks I have seen nothing but these works flow from your hand. If we are not ready today, we shall not be ready tomorrow,” she spoke, amusement heavy in his voice. “Now I do believe there is a much anxious prince wringing his hands and cursing his own blood while we speak, wondering how he shall ever remember his pledge to Asgard. I would say that is also its own danger. One much more easily seen to than fighting imagined foes.” 

Loki’s jaw clenched, he had hardly had time enough for Thor for days. Every time they had seen each other a flurry of desire had taken them both. Loki had been pressed against most of the walls of Asgard, Thor’s body pressed hot and desperate along his chest. Loki had been forced to style his cloak until it billowed over his collar and neck to hide the various marks the Odinson had left on him before they would be forced to part for other obligations. He had given little thought as to what other emotions might have been whirling through his foolish head.

“You are most correct, your highness,” Loki bowed low to her careful to not let his cloak slip and expose the mess of his neck and throat. “A grave error that I shall see to immediately. 

~~~L/T~~~

Thor emptied his glass and thumped it down upon the table, calling for another. He kept his hand tightly fisted on top of the wood so as not to betray the slight shaking in his hand. He was a prince and it was unseemly for him to fear his own birth right. Taking up the crown was as natural as the colour of his hair or the blue of his eyes and not something to make him quake. Surrounding himself with his fellows did not help him. He could never share his fears with Sif or the warriors three; for they would never be able to stand next to him in battle trusting in his courage to bring them to victory. Loki had helped, even in his mocking, for nothing came without mocking with Loki. However, Loki had much to do, and while Thor knew he did it for him, he could not help but selfishly desire to pull his love away from his tasks and keep him by his side always. A fresh cup was brought to him and he tried to summon a smile as he took it. However, as he lifted it to his mouth he was interrupted by one of the servants. More importantly one of the palace valet’s that had been moved to Loki’s command in readying the palace for the coronation.

“Excuse me, my prince, master Loki requests a moment of your time, if you would be so kind as to follow me?” the valet asked and Thor nodded immediately bidding a goodnight to his fellows. Outside the great hall his love awaited him, the red of his cloak pulled up high under his chin and spread over the contours of his shoulders like a shroud.

“Thank you, Talil, I believe I can take the Odinson the rest of the way myself,” Loki affable voice spoke gently in his hushed tones. He pressed his hand for a moment to the valet’s and the quick glint of gold flickered in the hall before the valet gave a demure nod and left them. Thor could not help but sigh at Loki. “What? Did you think that the Vanir were the only ones to covet gold?” Loki laughed at his assumption loudly, his wide grin already distancing him from the calm stately character he had portrayed a moment earlier. “It seems that there is much about your own kind you shall need to learn,” Loki told him and took his hand. It was all it took. The slight press of Loki’s flesh to his own, the whisper of cold skin, the thud of his heartbeat, even just the scent of him so close. Thor pressed Loki back against the wall, watching as the dark blue of his skin stood out in contrast to the pale gold of the Asgardian palace. It was enough to make him forget everything if only for a moment. It seemed Loki had other plans for he ducked away from Thor’s touch, twisted from his grip and shook his head. “Now is not the time for such things, Odinson, we have matters to attend to.”

“We have been attending matters for days, Loki,” The groan within his own voice sounded pathetic even to his own ears. “Now, all I wish to attend to is you.”

“Trust me, you shall not regret this,” Loki muttered his voice dark with promise.

“I thought you said I was a fool for trusting you?” Thor pointed out following Loki down the hall.

“Yes, and it never ceases to amuse me that it is the one piece of advice of mine you never take to heart,” Loki pointed out flippantly.

“Then lead on my beloved,” Thor stole Loki’s hand to press a kiss to it. “I will follow.” 

For a moment it seemed as if Loki blushed, a darker blue hue covering his cheeks slightly before his mouth twisted into a wicked smirk and he strode off quickly down the corridor. They arrived at a door that Thor had never been through before. Its great wooden frame was inlayed with gold and silver, the two metals entwining in the details of the engravings. Thunder seemed to glisten down from the very highest pinnacle of the frame dashing itself over the knots and swirls below it. Thor’s mark, the same triquetra that was carved into his hammer stood emblazoned on the door.

“Whose door is this?” Thor asked, his hand reaching out to touch the symbol.

“It is yours,” Loki explained flippantly, his hand already pushing the door open, the tips of his fingers losing their colour with the pressure of the wood as he pushed. Thor followed Loki inside. There was little to see, though this was no unexpected as his belongings still sat in his own room on the other side of the palace, nestled on shelves where they had found their places years ago in the room he had grown in. The floor was polished wood so dark it must have come from Svalterheim, the knots and blemishes of the wood each flowing like gentle waves in such harmony that they must have been selected out of thousands to rest in such cohesion with each other. There was a desk of the same wood to the side, a chair cushioned with blue velvet before it, empty but for a quill and ink. Shelves and a wardrobe sat against one wall utterly empty. In the centre was a bed. Far bigger than the one he had awoken in, four posters extending upwards towards the ceiling curved like a drill and smoothed and varnished to gleaming. Loki reached out and ran his fingers around it, his hand travelling up with the spiral almost of its own volition. 

“Well?” Loki asked, his eyes cast almost demurely downwards. “There are still some choices to make. I am afraid I have been most reluctant to come to any decision in this matter without you,” Loki told him flicking his hand away from the bedpost to cast his magic in the air. Fine green power shifted like smoke for a moment until fine golden curtains drew themselves around the bed. “My first thought, of course, was gold,” Loki told him his hand shimmering over the soft gossamer of the curtain as Thor watched. “But why waste a show on something no one but the servants will see.” Loki sighed as if disappointed by this. “There is always red, which you do wear so well,” Another motion and the curtains seemed to bleed red this time with intricate stitching of ivy around its borders. “But you also have a fondness for blue,” Loki huffed and the red set like the sun to midnight blue. “Tell me, Odinson, what colour would you have?” 

Thor came up close to him pushing open the curtains to reveal the bed within bursting with cushions and blankets. The fine black bears fur would look well spread out over it but for now it was a blank slate of white and there was but one thing he would lay upon it. A gentle push was all the encouragement that Loki needed to lay out on the bed and he even waited his arms stretched up by his face while Thor climbed after him, his knees bracketing him. 

“Hmmm…”Thor mused against Loki’s neck, tugging away the cloak to gain better access, one hand already skimming up Loki’s thigh hitching up his simple coverings to free more flesh. “…blue is a goodly colour, though if I were to choose I would go a shade paler than that which you chose,” He ran his lips over the blue of Loki’s neck in way of explanation for his choice. “Red is also pleasing,” Thor told him forcing Loki to stare into his eyes a moment before kissing him hungrily. “But, if choice was forced upon me I would choose green.” Thor told him pushing Loki further into the soft sheets of the bed with a kiss.

“Green?” Loki asked in a gasp as Thor’s fingers skimmed over the peaked flesh of one nipple.

“Aye, for tomorrow you may take another skin if you so wished…and yet this…” Thor took one of Loki’s hands in his and kissed each finger delighting in the small surges of green that lit up Loki’s pupils as his power coursed through him. “…this is your forever.” Green blossomed around them as Loki’s magic seeped out dying the covers and curtains to a rich ivy as Loki wriggled under Thor for a moment before hitching his leg up and around Thor’s body to tug him in and grind against him. Thor breathed thickly at the sensation thrusting downwards against his beloved. He was just about to reach for the clasps of his belt when there was a knock on the door. He growled low in his throat. “Ignore them.” He commanded roughly against Loki’s lips. The creature under him laughed at the thought of obedience and pushed him back slightly.

“What if they have need of us?” he questioned, a maddening grin stretching his lips.

“There need cannot be greater than my own, believe me.” Thor muttered darkly but allowed Loki to right himself, leaping from the bed artfully and smoothing himself down.

“Enter,” Loki called and Thor slumped back onto the bed in his defeat. Loki’s friend Nerfi from the council strode into the room with one eyebrow raised at Thor’s position. The prince could not bother to be embarrassed even as he sulked.

“The Allfather wishes for an audience with you both,” He stated smiling in a conspiratory fashion to Loki.

“Then I suppose we must obey,” Loki sighed and turned to look expectantly at Thor.

“It would not be fatal to him to wait but a moment or two,” Thor pointed out. 

“He is the king, my precious fool; he is to be obeyed as the sun is to rise. Tomorrow you shall be king, and it is you who shall be obeyed,” Loki pointed out his eyes darkening with pleasure at the thought. “But for now this is your father’s twilight, he has earned the right to our haste.” Loki strode onwards and Nerfi fell into step next to him. Jealousy burnt through Thor, he knew it was childish and he knew Loki allowed him the company of his own fellows but it was difficult to release Loki to any company. 

“It was a great challenge to find you, my lord,” Nerfi muttered just loud enough for Thor to hear.

“Obviously not challenge enough,” Loki smirked back and his friend laughed quietly. “Now, I am sure you have duties more pressing than guiding us to familiar halls.” 

“Indeed I do for I have tasks from your command,” Nerfi agreed bowing slightly to Loki before grinning at Thor. “I wish you a good day my prince, for my fellow here assures your nights.” With a slight smile he vanished down a corridor.

“Is this Nerfi a good man?” Thor asked suspiciously. “You have some troubles with him in the start I recall.”

“Nerfi? Oh heavens no, he is no good man, a fact I thank the stars for,” Loki laughed into his hand before turning back to Thor. “I have a good man…” he whispered warmly into the skin of Thor’s neck. “…Nerfi is malleable to my needs for now; let us leave the matter at that.” When they approached the great hall Loki took a moment to check Thor over, running his hands through his hair in a way that sent shivers through him, even rubbing his thumbs over the scruff of his beard to smooth it down before grinning at him. “There…fit for a king.” He declared and threw open the doors without announcement. 

~~~~L/T~~~

Loki strode onwards with wide steps and gave Thor little choice other than to follow him. Usually Loki liked to drape himself over one of the chairs in the throne room as Thor’s father spoke. To allow his disinterested eyes to follow the folds of the curtains or chips in the stones to amuse his senses, now however he kept himself by Thor’s side. He made sure that the bared flesh of his arm brushed over Thor’s tuniced forearm even though he knew the prince would feel it is as nothing more than a slightly tingling chill down one side. There was utter silence in the room as Loki stared up at the king, confident that Thor copied his expression, if not with slightly more pout at being denied his own pleasure. 

“Father, you wished to speak with us?” Thor asked when the quiet had stretched on too long. 

“Aye, there have been foul rumours spreading through the palace.” The Allfather spoke his voice slower in his weariness.

“Oh?” Loki put on his best shocked face laying one hand over his breast. “I did not take you for one to take pleasure in gossip. Tell me, my king and sovereign, shall we send for our needlework? I do find such talk leaves my hands so idle and I am sure your embroidery is the most fine in all the lands,” Loki teased delighting in the furious red spreading up the king’s neck.

“There have been whisperings of unsavoury acts in the public baths of the palace.” Next to him Thor blushed but Loki remained calm. “And more even of uncouth goings on in every corridor in Asgard,” quiet fury laced the voice of the Allfather, the words gritted out from behind a clenched jaw. Loki however just grinned at the implication, allowing the red of his cloak to slip slightly to reveal the darker blue blemishes his lover had sucked into his skin. 

“They are not whisperings. They are spoken fact,” he told the king with brazen pride. “I would not have thought it would surprise you. You often claim I love Thor for his shield, why not for his dagger also?” Loki insinuated with a sly grin.

“Loki!” Thor spluttered next to him casting wary eyes at his father.

“Oh, terribly sorry, my dearest.” Loki affected the most cloying of tones and laid one hand as if in placation on Thor’s chest, smiling at him through his lashes, despite the rather vulgar show he was making he could feel the heartbeat of the Odinson speed under his touch. “Have I offended you? Was it my wording? I must confess ‘dagger’ does rather under sell the matter at hand. Would you prefer if I had said sword? Or lance perhaps? Or maybe make some reference to your mighty hammer?” Loki shifted his grip to run suggestive fingers over the top of Thor’s weapon. The pads of his fingers tracing the details engraved into it, dipping down into its rivet. Thor’s gaze lingered on it darkening, obviously forgetting his father for a moment. “Now, is that all? Or do you have some other long known fact you wish to shock me with?” Loki pretended to look around as if hunting for listening ears. “Have you deduced the sun rises in the east or heard talk that the seas are made of water?” Loki smirked at the King’s anger. “If you do not mind, Allfather, we do have more pressing things to attend to, after all, tomorrow there will be a new king of Asgard.” Loki told him and turned on his heels to whisk his way from the room. Thor remained behind him as Loki had assumed he would. The Jotun tried to tamper down his amusement at the thought of the mighty Odinson stammering away like a youth explaining his salacious acts to a disapproving father. In the end nothing would change. There was little Odin could do now Thor had forsworn himself to Loki and he had made it plain that they were not committing these acts in secret and refused to hide themselves. Loki was confident that Thor would find him later and most properly make some show of covering him with affection in the most crowded of places so he cherished his moment of silence. It was easy to think of pleasant things; of disapproving parents and the colour of Thor’s new curtains, but the weight of fear was settled still over him. Tomorrow dozens of diplomats would descend on Asgard for the coronation, and one of them sought to end everything Loki held dear. He straightened his back and lifted his head high unfurling his cloak from his neck to display the marks the Odinson had left on him. Magic flooded his veins, the protection spells he had woven into Thor humming at the displeasure of their distance ready to assist. Loki would not allow anyone to touch what was his.


	28. the gathering crowds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor meets the other kings and queens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm straying from canon for the dignitaries just for my own purposes here, also I'm kind of sad that Odin and Loki won't be at each others throats for a while.

Part 28 the gathering crowds

Loki stared out at Asgard. The golden palace spread out over the land like points of a compass. Each golden ridge spiking out and tapering off to low peaks. The most northern point reached outwards towards the Bifrost. The great golden eye-like dome with its technicolored gangway flanked by the open nothingness of space. From every other window one could see forests, farms, houses and all the other trivial evidence of existence that the people of Asgard dotted the land with. Only the Bifrost stood alone. Loki stared, as if concentration alone could stop the inevitable swirl of the mechanism into life. Could stop it opening up and spewing forth the hordes of visitors, the threats into Asgard. Around him his clothes flapped and hissed in the breeze. They were new, not yet fully settled into the shape of his body. Despite his objections Thor had insisted that Loki have new robes for the occasion without regard for the fact that he would be seen by no one. Loki had conceded the fight to the Odinson after a short while. It was always best to give the illusion that victory was still a possibility for the foolish prince. His robes were as simple as he was allowed, with absolutely no precious metals or shining trinkets to alert any of his position. His chest was covered tightly like a second skin, the collar high against his neck but with his arms left bare, the fabric thin but darkest black. Overlaying it was stripes of translucent blue and frosted white, the detailed sashes ruminant of the dark magpie wings he would soon have. The top most layers curved downwards and split at his thighs to hang down to his calves in the shape of tail feathers. His legs were bound in lightest black cotton, that heated his skin to discomfort. Under the Odinson’s gaze he had adorned his only bare skin, his shoulders and arms, with black spiralling loops of ink in the same spaced measurements of the cloth against his body until the only distinctions between cloth and skin was the canvas of vicious cobalt and not the softness of black cloth. It was still a curiosity to have Thor look upon him with want while he did such simple acts in preparation of sorcery. Loki wondered idly if he should note down what acts produced certain responses for further reference, he might compose a tome of the Odinson’s various reactions. 

Behind him metal and leather creaked and slapped against itself and Loki cast his expression into blankness as the Allfather approached. It would do no one any good to have to inform the still King of Asgard that he had been pondering his son’s salacious thoughts over Loki, though it would amuse the Jotun. 

“You are not in high spirits, Laufeyson,” Odin noted in his gruff voice; turned to a rumble with the oncoming sleep. 

“Laufeyson…” Loki rolled the word around his mouth in idle contemplation. He allowed his body to relax, his arms to swing slightly at his sides and one hip to slope downwards slightly in a hitch. “You seek to use a dead man’s name against me? The morning dew is a more potent poison. But come now and speak as clear as men are able, what is the profit on this act?” Loki mused turning, just his face towards the man. “Do you call me such to remind me of my loss? For I must remind you that even Jottenheim’s most favoured son had not grief enough for tears, and I am not a creature made for mourning. Nay, you know me better than this. Perhaps you use it to remind me of what I am? For a weed does shrivel and rot without its roots, and water cut off from its current and flow turns to stagnation until the taste of it is poison. If this is your goal may I remind you that Laufey was not the nourishing earth, nor the mountain born stream, he was the wind I braced myself against and the fire I navigated around to save myself from burning,” Loki scratched idly at his neck, allowing the long tips of his fingers to brush his chin in the lazy imperfect motion. “I fear you are projecting your own fears upon me, my king. You are telling yourself the story that sons are nothing without their fathers. But this is not true. A son without a father is a dog without a leash. Or a slave set to their freedom. Do you fear that Thor will shrivel away once you sleep? Once Odinson is no longer the mark that is branded on all his acts? Nay, while you sleep you shall see your son shine brighter than ever,” Loki told him with a smirk over his features. “I shall raise your son up high with naught but his own name as a banner,” Loki said returning his watchful gaze to Asgard. “Odinson, Laufeyson, these words mean nothing in sight of tomorrow.”

“Fine. I shall name you not for your father. And yet I must call you something. Today is a day of titles and we must all know our place.” 

“Hmm…a name…a name for Loki,” Loki mused tapping a finger against his lips in contemplation. “You could name me after the land that bore me, but my skin already calls me a son of Jottenheim and we need not plagiarise it. And besides I am a child of so many more things than just a land of ice and horror. I am a child of magic, and stories, of mischief and darkness…”

“I shall name you after the father you still serve to this day, Loki child of the liars tongue.”

“A fair and ambiguous title, for in this case am I father or son to falsehood?” he asked lightly, conversationally. “I think I shall take this title. I had always felt rather enslaved to a single designation, perhaps a man should have a dozen names, and at least twenty faces to truly be who he really is…”

“I have not the time for your pointless chatter.” Odin interrupted making Loki fake a jump of fright and spin around to face him with a look of false contrition on his face.

“Oh?! I am sorry, you must allow me to beg my forgiveness. I did not realise the hour drifted so late. I suppose if I were to commit myself to slumber away a century or more I would wish to spend my last waking moment with more companionable folk than myself,” Loki told him. “However, I feel duty bound to point out that our meeting was not by happenstance but by your own doing.”

“I did indeed seek you out. I was surprised however, to see you so pensive. I thought today would be a victory for you. I expected smug glee not furrowed brow. It is unsettling.”

“It is unsettling only because you do not know me. Usurping you from your throne has never been my goal, has never been a victory in my mind. Today we are besieged from every corner. Today we let in the wasps and we do not waste our words begging them not to sting but only pray that we shall survive their poison,” Loki turned back to where the Bifrost opened up and the first guests arrived. Tall, blue, familiar shapes strode forth, but the sight offered Loki no reprise from his dark mood. “Tomorrow…tomorrow may be a better day. But today is no such day for Loki.”

“My son did not want me to take to sleep your enemy,” Odin told him his teeth clenched. “You have my son’s affections and for this I give you blessing.” Loki turned to the king with a smile.

“Are words not the most wondrous of things?” he asked seemingly out of nowhere. “Take this blessing of yours. It is not born of truth for I can see the reluctance striking your countenance like a hammer has felled you. And yet that word releases me to all kinds of freedoms with the same power as if it had been true. Remarkable. I thank you for your gift. Now I must beg your forgiveness for I wish to have word with the king of Jotteneheim, if you do not mind?”

“Go,” The Allfather conceded with a sweep of his hand. Loki moved to walk off but paused a moment.

“I feel I should tell you king, for it seems you have much misread me. Whatever you think of Loki, you should know by now he is not your enemy.” 

~~~L/T~~~

Loki sent word to his brother and they met under the city, with the weight and grandeur of Asgard nothing more than a collection of stones and metal above them, the blue light of the casket washing over all else until it seemed as if they met on the ice of Jottenheim and not the vault of Asgard.

“It is a wondrous item,” Helblindi remarked, the awe clear in his voice, his hand reaching out as if to touch it before falling short and returning to his side. Loki just shrugged.

“There is a dwarf smith who could forge armor with such infinitesimal detail and of such a thin metal that a fly could wear it glorious into battle. There is an elven sorcerer who enchanted every door in a noble house to sing the praises of its lady. There is no monopoly on skill if one is willing to seek it out,” Loki told him dismissively, daring to do what his brother could not and tracing his finger over the box.

“Aye, but this is home and blood and ice. Do you not hear its call?” Helblindi asked him that same choked reverence in his voice. “Does it not make you wish to drown in its glow, to place it high and gaze at it until time ends?” 

Loki did not. When the casket called to him it told of violence and death, of striking down every last wall until it was naught but rubble, of ice tinged red and the merciless crack of bodies fighting against cold unmoving restrains.

“Aye, like a babe to a teat,” he lied with a grin, removing his hand and giving the casket one pleased smile. Loki often preferred objects to people because they were more versatile; after all a hammer could be a tool of craft in a forge or a brutal weapon of murder upon the battlefield. All it took was the right hand to grasp it. 

“It is beautiful, is it not?” Helblindi whispered behind him and Loki turned to him with one eyebrow raised.

“I always wondered why you did not seek out lovers as our brothers did. I had no idea it was because your taste strayed so far from convention,” Loki smirked at him. “Shall I leave you a moment? I’m sure that Thor would not object as long as you keep your torrid little love affair secret.”

“Must you mock everything?” He asked striking Loki’s bared arm with a gentle slap as the other jotun cackled to himself. “Besides I had lovers.”

“The occasional tryst with a serving girl and adolescent foolishness hardly count as ‘lovers’. Though some of your early poetry may have held merit if not for the clawing sentimentalities.”

“Did no one have secrets under your watch?”

“I allowed our father a few. After all his truths could rend the fat off a man’s bone, even one such as I shudder to think of what his secrets could do.” When he was young and so sure that it was his right to know everything Loki had pried into his father as a child would a box of treats, the memory was still enough to find acid trailing hot and thick up the back of his throat.

“And these secrets, you kept them?”

“The ones that profited me to keep. Think of me as a bank, my dearest brother, and all the secrets coin. Now, I could hoard them all to myself, wrap myself around them in tight store or else give them out when they have barely passed over the flesh of my palm, and this is what most men are wont to do, and yet if one gives out these secrets at the right moment to the right ears then the return is even greater. I have always sought to be a practical man.”

“You could have been a good man,” Helblindi pointed out raw disappointment in his voice. 

“Good men are only sought out because they are as rare as stardust. It would do no one well to saturate the market with them. Why, if anything it would make it easier for the few bad men to succeed,” Loki scoffed drifting away from his brother to stare at the other treasures on display.

“You do not believe that there are good men?” Helblindi asked, his brow raised in surprise, twisting his neck to keep his brother in sight. 

“There are few good men, my brother, and all these must be born into their goodness and then raised in such a way as protects it. It is quite a challenge to keep a man good, and usually taints all others around them,” Loki told him eyeing the treasure of Atlantis before him, the shape of his hand stretched over it casting it in bars of darkness. 

“I believe all men are good. All capable of making good choices and doing what is right,” Helblindi claimed, his voice ridged and determined with the unwavering surety of a believer. Loki had often observed that the pious man is the most assured with the least of proof.

“So the good man says. I believe most men are neutral and good and bad have but a few of us as pieces in this game. For I have beheld that the servants of good and bad are too transformed by their employment. You see; goodness…goodness has a way of marking its bearers. You sight it in the curve of their smile, of the ease of their laughter. Goodness lights the very air around a person. But badness…no, that is another matter entirely. Badness sneaks and hides. It colours itself in elaborate camouflage. It drapes over its servants with silk and jewels until all you see is the show and never the performer. It can even make of itself a thin copy of goodness. It is a hard trick to pull off up close, but doable, when one has lived as one of badness’s slaves for long enough. But badness does not mark you as goodness does, that would never be enough. Badness gets right into your core until it is you, until there is nothing to pull it away from you, until all its barbs are stuck so deep that only death would free you. Goodness is what you do, badness becomes who you are.” Loki told him. “But do not fret or grieve, for badness has its place in the world. There are acts so dark, so distasteful that those with goodness must not be allowed to handle. For these they must turn to those of badness. We cannot all be heroes, dear sweet brother mine,” Loki told him condescendingly. 

“I think you have been telling people that you are bad for too long, Loki, you are starting to believe it.”

“If all I meet believe it and I believe it myself, what difference is it to truth?” Loki asked.

“Maybe none,” Helblindi sighed. “I have thought long and hard since becoming king, Loki, I am not the brash prince that I once was. I have had time to reflect on your acts. I am starting to believe, brother, that you might be good.”

“Curse your tongue for its slurs against my name, brother. For I am no more good than the moon is a square and I will not have you lay such insults upon my shoulders. Bad enough that I should have to bear the brunt of Thor’s addled optimism, I will not take it from you also.”

“Merely a thought brother, I have many.”

“I find that a difficult idea to believe in. Though perhaps Asgard found peace with Jottenheim too soon. If I had known its king would waste his time away in idle contemplation I would have urged Odin to continue his campaign to seize the land. Now, be gone with you before I cry out for your villainous attempts at stealing the casket.”

“Only my brother would threaten the king of Jottenheim with capital offence just to escape a compliment,” Helblindi noted exasperated. “So, if not for pleasant talk why have you called me here? What is it that you want from me?”

“From you? Oh never from you, my dearest brother. You have nothing I could need, what use is picking the pockets of a pauper. But Jottenheim…she has much to give. Jottenheim will sign its allegiance over to Asgard. You will make binding law that should we go to war, Jottenheim and all its able sons will follow.”

“War? You talk of war so quick. Loki, rest, enjoy yourself for all the realms join together in peace,” 

“Peace? You think that men seek harmony? What foolishness. You think today all men cry for peace? All kings and queens and highest lords doff their crowns as caps and cheer for peace? Peace is but a word and all too oft is that word used in place of the acquisition of power, for that is what men seek, and that is what I rend myself for. Make no mistake, goodly men with noble intentions burn innocence to the ground and all the while cry peace and justice. They take to war as if it were an honour and let these children have their daydream of glorious war and noble battle but never mark me with that delusion. Let day see valour and night atrocities. I have chosen my hour as you have yours. Take with you the light and leave me dark deeds. This is a great day of glorious celebration, no doubt I shall need to wet my blade before the day is completed. You think we have peace? We have a pause in the playing of a game, my brother, for contentment to one land is abhorrent to another.” Loki turned to his brother with his eyes dark and serious. “There is war rising like the dawn and you stand with us or against us, but choose now in this moment. Does Jottenheim stand with Asgard?”

“Aye, brother, it does.”

“Good, my assistant is ready with a contract committing your forces in union with our own.” Loki clicked his fingers and his shadow approached with a simple contract, there would be time to finalise the details but the war could begin at the toll of a bell and Loki wanted to be as ready as he could be. 

“Agreed, long may the lands of ice and gold stand besides each other.” Helblindi called as Loki turned upon his heel and left the room, Loki snorted in derision at the comment.

“And here I thought your days of poetic dreaming were done brother.”

~~~L/T~~~

Loki was late and time was running short. Sweat gathered on the palms of Thor’s hands and anywhere that the constricting armour of his ceremonial robes touched his skin. All the fires in the great hall were lit and for once they did not glow with the light of home but burn oppressively in the air. The delegates from the other realms gathered to give him greeting before the coronation and while his mother and father stood on either side of him as wards Loki was notably absent. 

“There is no more time,” a page insisted with a worried whisper. His father’s hand came down upon his shoulder like the weight of a shield. 

“Send them forth,” the still king commanded, up in the ceiling a bird cawed obnoxiously. The high screech of its tone made Thor look upwards giving a soft smile to the creature. A single magpie looked back at him with cocked head and preened its feathers in a showy fashion. It might have been his beloved, or it might have been but an ambassador from the Jotun, it mattered not to Thor. 

“Aye,” he straightened his back and held his head up high. “Let them come,” he decreed with the voice of a king. The doors were opened wide to the greatest of all the halls, separated tables and chairs housed different realms, but many moved in-between using the opportunity to discuss business. The Dark and Light elves were so intermingled that only the king and queen seated at the highest end of each table separated their lands. The dwarves craned their necks at the edge of every table offering critique of armour and helm alike. The Jotun’s sat alone and isolated, Helblindi taking quiet word with his officers, his neck bent over a parchment in thought. The Vanir laughed the loudest and their eyes all twinkled at the bejewelled finery, each one was adorned with enough jewellery that if they were to take to the bathes they would sink and drown. The Fire giants of Muspelheim stood grave and smouldering, making others give them wide berth even as tolerating smiles graced well-bred faces. Even Hel’s demon children politely gave them nods of their heads from under helmets fashioned of the bones of the great beasts of her dark realm. Her counterpart Mephistos set out his own minions like swirls of noxious gas to linger at the edge of every conversation. 

When they entered all rose from their chairs and goblets lifted up high to praise of Thor. Loki had purposefully crafted the room and only now did Thor see its goal. The room was fashioned as a copy of Yggdrasil, the tables decorated with the markings of the great tree. It allowed each realm to have its place and its order without casting one realm above the other in esteem. Thor walked with confidence to the first branch knowing he needed only follow the path to greet all of his guests. Muspelheim was first and Thor bowed to Surtur the King of the Fire giants remembering Loki’s warning about offering his hand to a raging fire. The king returned the gesture, his skin cracking like dry earth and the burning white of embers seeping out from underneath. He was clothed in thick black iron, the shape melted to his skin and manipulated to curve against its nature so that it became like ribbons wrapped in simple knots around his person. The iron at his fists and around his crown seemed almost alive as it ebbed and flowed in and out of its enforced shape revealing bright red gems underneath like the sea receding to leave the bounty of a wreck. His ambassadors were dressed in a similar fashion and each rushed to bow lower and deeper than their king. The Giant king said nothing merely smiled, the spoiled egg scent of sulphur hot on his breath. Thor held himself so not to flinch from the smell and continued. 

Eseross from Svalterheim appeared much as he had when Loki and Thor had stood in his great hall but now a ring of blood red gold encircled his crown as if it might split his skull at any moment, the skin pillowed with the pressure around it. The new king fell over himself to shake Thor’s offered hand quickly thanking Asgard for its support in his lands time of distress. The ambassadors of the dark elves lowered to their knees, some of the faces familiar but many not. Thor gave them a brisk greeting before continuing to the rulers of the dead realm.

The underworld was reigned over by two factions, the land split in two. The demons of Mephistos were wildly coloured creatures, their skin every shade imaginable, and all streaked with white soot to designate their tribes, some had great horns rising from their foreheads, some had arms long enough to skim the ground as they stood with great curved claws making unpleasant scratching noises on the stones below. They stood mostly naked, some clothed in nothing but bands around their arms or shin. Mephistos however was garbed as a king a thick red velvet robe draped over his shoulders trimmed with black speckled white fur, sweeping down to pool at his taloned feet. His face could pass for a human in the right light if not for the sallow pink of his skin and the black pupil less eyes.

“Well met Thor of Asgard,” his voice was a hiss and Thor’s stomach churned at the sight of his forked tongue flicking at the knife sharpened teeth that crowded his mouth. 

“And you,” Thor replied solemnly taking the demon kings hand in his own and hoping the shudder of revulsion did not show.

“And where is master Loki?” Lady Hel asked moving forward with one eyebrow raised. One of her men idly stroking at the crafted bone he wore at his shoulder as armour. It seemed suspiciously shaped in the echo of the skull of one of Mephistos’s men and the creature in question hissed and growled before it could be silenced by its master. Hel turned to her guard and smirked once before shaking her head and the guard bowed his apology. Loki had spoken in fond tones of the mistress of the dead realm and had scolded Thor when he had grimaced at the thought of her half decaying body, claiming that if he should ever name a being as his child it would be she. Hel was dressed in the skin of a snake, green mottled flesh hugging close to her body. In truth she was beautiful to look upon, her flesh was milk pale, her one eye a gleaming green and her hair black as shadows, she was almost reminiscent of Loki when clothed as an Aesir. But this beauty only survived over half her complexion for the other side of her face was a monstrosity, the flesh peeling away from the bone, muscle and veins clinging like dead ivy to what remained, her tongue visible right to her throat as her neck gaped and hung empty in places. 

“I come with Loki’s regrets, he has much to do.” Thor assured her making sure to gather both of her hands in his as he shook them. She eyed his grasp with curiosity for a moment before smiling making the fragile flesh of her dying cheek spilt open with a sound not that far from the stab of a blade. 

“You must send him my regards if I have not the time to greet him,” she requested.

“Of course,” Thor pledged as he moved on. The dwarves of Nidvaril gave him rough quick handshakes of ones who were not much for ceremony though Buri did sigh and mutter under her breath that she owed Loki a drink.

Helblindi was next and he greeted Thor with sad eyes and a brief nod, kingship had aged his beloved’s brother and Thor could not help but wonder if it would weigh so heavily upon him as well. The King of Vanaheim Njord stood almost gleaming in the jewels sewn into his golden cloak, his fingers clumsy with thick rings as he gripped Thor’s hands, but his almond shaped eyes grinned in sincerity of his greeting. Behind him Freyja stood, the Vanir that Loki had been so taken with. Even now that he had Loki in the most intimate of manners jealousy coiled deep within him and he tried not to look at the creature. He focused his thoughts instead on his dear companion Hogun who had been born amongst the Vanir and who’s kinship showed through in the pallor of their skin and the occasional facial structure amongst the gathered. Lastly he allowed the queen of the light elves to place the softest of kisses upon his cheek, her brother at her side gave him an approving nod. Only Midgard of all the realms was not present for the realm was but a bud and not ready to face the enormity of the great tree and all its inhabitants. One day thought Thor knew the Midgardian’s would once again host those they worshiped as gods without fear or childish envy. His greetings done away with Thor ushered himself from the room to ready himself for the ceremony in safe knowledge that his mother would see to their guests. He left without page or servant only the slow easy glide of a magpie behind him.

~~~L/T~~~

Thor paced the entrance to the great hall. The voices on the other side boomed loud in cheer, men and women who had not have occasion to be in the same room for centuries met and exchanged greeting. All the while bile swirled in the pit of Thor’s stomach. 

“Nervous?” A voice called behind him and Loki slipped from the shadows to slide near keeping a careful distance between himself and the bowl of fire smouldering before Thor.

“Nay.” Thor scoffed and Loki raised one eyebrow to show his lie was easy seen through. Loki stood in the corridor in his outfit as if he still straddled the line between man and bird, the overlapping layers sliding against each other like the settling of wings. 

“Fear is nothing but intelligence and self-preservation,” Loki noted stepping forward and fiddling with the fastenings on Thor’s cape, buffing the metal of his chest plate for a moment. “I am becoming concerned that with such new heightened skills you will have little need for me,” Loki sighed dramatically and it was easy to loop an arm around him and tug him in closer. 

“There will always be use for you,” Thor told him sincerely.

“Ah, yes to sate the ravenous lusts of a warrior king,” Loki smirked at him and all the realms dissolved into a sharp flash of white teeth and bold blue skin. 

“I have need for you other than my bed,” Thor promised him gently. “I remind you I have spent my time in heated conflict with my father asserting my right to love you. Does that not garner me some reward?” 

“Reward must be weighed against effort, my still prince. Tell me what words did you use against your father to justify your unseemly desires?” Loki asked playfully, his hand stroking at the bared skin of Thor’s neck.

“He claimed we were ill fitted, I refuted him. I explained he had not studied your countenance as I had. Laid my hours of devotion to your visage as the proof for my knowledge. I told him of your glory, your quick wit and clever mind. That you above all would guide me through his absence, and not just as an advisor, that you would make of me a better man as well as a better king.” 

“Kindly words, Odinson,” Loki gifted him with a gentle smile and the smallest of kiss. “Indeed I can see how quickly anyone might become enamoured with you when you speak such flattering words. Even if I think you credit a match with the glory of the moon. But it seems your suitors uttering have swayed your father, we are given his blessing to do as we see fit,” Thor smiled and clasped Loki closely to him for a moment. “Now stand tall, Thor, and go to your crowd. For the moment you belong to them.”

“Aye, but always do I belong to you,” Thor assured him and Loki gave him a look of fond derision.

“A fool’s mistake that I shall take full advantage of I assure you. Now go the quicker we begin the quicker this day will reach its end, and I much look forward to tonight, I have never had occasion to lie with a king before,” With one last quick press of lips to each other Loki turned and slipped into the guise of a bird taking off hidden into the rafters of the halls of Asgard. Thor gave himself one steadying breath and threw open the doors to greet the throngs of cheers.


	29. In service of a king

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor is celebrated as king

Part 29 in service to a king

Thor had barely strode over the threshold of his quarters when he was assailed by a familiar shape.

"We have done it," Loki crowed into Thor's neck gleefully. Thor found himself braced awkwardly against the pleasant armful his beloved made. Loki seemed unsure if he wished to press backwards against Thor or else pull him forwards towards the large four poster bed. "I almost cannot believe it. If you did not stand here before my eyes I would think you nothing more than some spectre, dreamt of my most naive of thinking, some mummers play for the glad tiding of a child," he huffed a laugh into Thor's cloak before attacking Thor's armour with the force of a personal vendetta against every glint of silver, before sealing their mouths together. Thor's hands reached to grasp him, running his hands over Loki's perfect form, trailing the rivets of his kin slowly. Loki merely sighed in exasperation at his attempts of calm affections, and quickly found the hidden clasps that allowed him to worm his way under Thor's armour and brace his hands against Thor's skin. The chill of Jottun flesh a welcomed respite to the clammy heat under the layers of metal and cloth.

"Why such haste?" Thor asked through a warm chuckle as Loki took to removing his armour like he feared it might burn Thor's flesh. Loki paused in his mission a moment, his features cast in amused bewilderment. Gently he manoeuvred him towards the bed where he left Thor's legs spread wide enough that the muscles began to protest as Loki knelt, his long legs tucked under him, his lips finding Thor's once more briefly. 

"You are king of Asgard," Loki informed him with the patience one would normally reserve for a truant child. "You are sworn protector of this entire realm, armies bow at your feet, children make sport with your name, wives shut their eyes and bit their lips to not cry out your name in their husbands beds...from this very room you shall rule over all manner of men," Loki grinned at him, a flash of white against cobalt as Thor could only blink in his confusion. Loki rolled his eyes once and then turned them upwards smouldering at Thor. "I have never had occasion to lay with a king before," he whispered, dark and seductive, his hand creeping with promise over Thor's chest, playing lightly over the thin spread of golden hair. 

"Oh?" Thor's eyebrows raised to the heavens at his words, the thunderers eyes glancing down to where Loki now bit at his lip, the plump flesh pulled out in a slow release as sharp white pearls dug into them for a moment, darkening the colour minutely and leaving them shining.

 

"Indeed," Loki purred, loosening his own clothes in a way that was so haphazard that it hardly seemed in Loki's nature at all, before he pressed his bared form to Thor's partially clothed one. "And I am most looking forward to servicing my liege tonight," he whispered in Thor's ear. It was all the encouragement that he needed and Thor grabbed rough handfuls of blue flesh, shoving him from between his spread legs and pushing him higher up the bed. Shirking off the last of his clothes as he shuffled on his knees to rejoin him. Forcefully he pulled Loki around until the cold soft flesh of his back was pressed tightly against Thor's chest. Thor trapped his beloved with a strong arm around his waist while his other hand trailed down his lover's body to skim over his spine, following the bump of bone to the slight swell of his backside and then slid in-between where he was met with a trail of slickness. He groaned into Loki's neck and the wicked thing had the audacity to laugh even as Thor sunk first one and then two fingers into him with ease.

"It was a long and dreary ceremony, my king, I could not be expected to stay for the whole thing when I had other, more interesting, thoughts on my mind," Loki teased, his voice losing some of its poetry as he stifled a gasp. The idea that while Thor had been in the great hall making his oaths Loki had been laid out in their bed, his fingers deep within himself, spurred the thunder god on and he could not help but rut his hips against Loki gently to ease some of the pressure now building in his gut, his cock pressing against the soft skin of Loki's hip for but a moment. Loki threw one arm backwards grasping tightly into Thor's hair, tugging slightly until he met him in a kiss. "Come now, my king, do not let my thoughtful attentiveness go to waste," he taunted with a sly grin. 

Thor wished that he had words as Loki did, but all he could manage was a slight grunt and then he pushed Loki forward forcing the Jotun to brace himself against one of the spiralling beams that adorned the bed, his hands clasping around its bulk. He covered Loki's body with his own, teasing the tip of his sex against Loki's entrance for a mere moment, enjoying the slight catch against the tight muscle before pushing into warm, wet, tightness. Loki gasped breathlessly as Thor pressed as deeply as he could, his hands flat on Loki's chest until his hips settled flush against Loki's behind. His fingertips traced lightly over Loki's nipples, grinning as Loki shivered and clenched around him before sliding downwards to take possession of his hips and used his grasp to pull Loki slowly away from him only to thrust back in hard. Loki's head bowed, nearly knocking itself into the wooden frame as he jolted forward. Thor lifted one leg, planting his foot on the mattress to gain more purchase before thrusting in again. Loki simply moaned and pressed backwards with his body. The heat between them increased as the rhythm sped up. Thor looked down and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of himself sliding into Loki's body, coming out wet and shiny with the slick of him, the differences in their colouring vivid and compelling like water meeting sand. Far too soon Thor felt his body tense for climax and he forced himself to look away, pressing himself tighter into Loki and speeding his thrusts. He shifted slightly and Loki let out a tight, high, mewl of a noise.

"There," Loki commanded in a whisper, "Just there," he demanded again, Thor set himself at the angle and soon Loki was making the most obscene amount of noise. Stuttered begging, filthy praise for Thor's cock, and best of all Thor's name over and over until it seemed all he could manage to utter. Thor desperately kept himself from the edge, delighted in pleasing Loki so. Soon Loki tensed tightly around him as his pleasure tipped him over into bliss, taking away any chance he had to fight his completion and he buried himself deeply within his lover and let himself go. They breathed together for a moment before Thor pulled himself out and grasped Loki to him once more as he dropped to the mattress flat on his back. Thor lay Loki down over him, not bothering with the messy tangle of blankets rumbled beneath them. Loki lazily swung out one blue leg and kicked at the thick beam at one of the corners. It swayed ominously and Loki chuckled, his breath ricocheting warmly against Thor's bared skin.

"I think we broke the bed," he noted with humour in his voice, slightly broken from his pleasure. 

"Indeed," Thor agreed pulling them around so that Loki lay out under him. The tricksters body was plaint and willing as he allowed himself to be moved. Deep blue debauched with careless steaks of white, his hair a wild mess over the pillows and his hands palm upwards as if in surrender. Thor's mouth found one of Loki's nipples and he took the bud into his mouth gently sucking at it and worrying it lightly with his teeth, a dash of Loki's release lapped up in the process. Loki shivered under him pleasantly before batting at his head to get him to stop. "The first but not the last," Thor declared with mock authority and watched as Loki's eyebrows raised over his brow in surprise.

"Oh really?" He asked in a light tone.

"Verily, we shall become known for it over the realms. Wherever we travel we shall leave whatever bed we are graced with as nothing but splinters, indeed they could carve a frame of stone and naught shall be left but rubble and sand, such will be our passions," Thor told him happily. Loki merely laughed and reached up with both hands to rub soothingly at Thor's neck.

"You are a fool," he told him affectionately and Thor dipped his head to rub the tip of his nose along Loki's collar.

"Aye, but you are my fool, and you will indulge me my foolishness," Thor told him.

"As my king commands, I suppose I shall," Loki admitted with a half-hearted sigh. "Now, come there is more to being king of Asgard than destroying the hard graft of your carpenters. We have guests to entertain," Loki shifted out from under him in a series of interesting wiggles that almost had Thor suggesting they go another round before returning to more tiresome duties. But Loki waved his hand and stood immaculate as if the last heated moments had been nothing more than Thor's lewd imaginings. His hair was slicked back, his skin bright and clean, even his clothes slid over without a single wrinkle, plain white lined with a bolt of red to match his cloak. "Come we must dine with our guests and I do not doubt there shall be some or other matter to deal with. If I give you a moment do you think that you can make the pretence of being a civilised creature?" Loki asked, looking Thor over with a critical eye as if he had not in fact been a contributor to Thor's dishevelment. Thor nodded at him and a moment later Loki whisked out of the room, leaving nothing but the strict instructions on which doublet to wear and the smell of him still clinging to their bed.

~~~~~~~~~L/T~~~~~~~~~~~~

Loki felt his hand wander and tap aimlessly against the arm of his chair before he had a chance to stop it. It would do no good for him to be seen taken by the wearisomeness of such celebrations. There was bland food, mediocre wine and the dullest of tales. Loki held himself back from grinding his teeth together as tales of the sleeping king were droned through the air. Especially as some horrifyingly false tale of Odin giving up his eye for knowledge was chanted into the air. Odin had given his eye to the sharpest peek of Laufey's spear, and while Loki was never one to fault a well-placed lie, this one was so trite and dully formed it would put the staunchest zealot of Odin's to sleep. He made a silent vow to make sure that Thor's tales were much more entertaining, with blood and gore to turn stomachs and enough humour to set the stiffest clerks into sniggers. He allowed his mind to drift, thinking of ridiculous tales he might weave, idly he wondered if there might be some way to work in some story of Thor dressing in the garbs of a maid. The thought was merely budding in his mind as he turned to look at his king, the foam of his mead caught in his beard. Loki had to cough to hold back a laugh as he mentally draped a very unflattering gown over his kings huge shoulders. He would definitely have to write and spread such a tale.

The worst part by far of the meal was that he was in such wondrous company. The queen of the dead sat by his side, a delightful creature forced by her afflictions to rely on much more than pretty looks and high station as many noble women seemed wont to do. But despite the close proximity there was no way to talk to the queen without involving all of their guests. Loki desperately wanted to make allies between the realms. He knew that Mephisto, the cretin, would sooner eat his own cock than align with him, but Hel was a practical girl and might be amenable to his plans. But even once the bard had finished they were much too exposed to talk. 

"How have you fared? If has been some years since we have last sat in each other's company," Hel noted, it seemed she did not see the same obstacles to their chatter as Loki did.

"Indeed...." Loki began, before Mephisto chuckled and spoke over him.

"I think we can all agree that Loki here has done himself quiet well. After all how many men can reign a kingdom from the spread of their legs? If must be quite the cunt you have there. Or else does he turn you, shove your face into the pillow and take you as a dog would? I have heard that is the Asgardian style after all," It was hard to tell who leapt to their feet quicker Thor or Helblindi, but it was the Jottun king who found his voice the fastest.

"Watch your words, devil king," Helblindi loomed over the table as if sheer force of will might make him too large to be contained by the room. "That is my brother you speak of," he warned. Loki, however, merely laughed and tugged Thor's sleeve to settle him back into his seat with a huff before throwing his brother a disparaging look.

"Brothers," he rolled his eyes with a sigh. "We spend our youth in vicious mocking of each other and yet when any other casts barbs against them we rise as wolves in defence. Pay his bluster no mind. He knows better than to risk Asgard's displeasure in ruining this delightful celebration," though Loki's words seemed merry and bright he made sure to add the warning to his tone. With a deeply displeased look Helblindi took his seat. "And I must say it is quite flattering a compliment. Thor will add testimony that modesty is not usually one of my many many wondrous qualities and yet even I say you go too far. I have not the power you ascribe me,"

"Oh, I think you have power plenty, runtling," Mephisto hissed darkly, Loki merely took a sip of wine and laughed lightly.

"Well then, you had better be more watchful of my wrath, should you not?" Loki spoke mockingly making sure to fix his sights on the devil king. The rest of the meal proceeded with much less drama. Loki led Hel through a few of the Asgardian dances and watched as Thor attempted to not tread on the feet of the elven queen. There was a small ruckus as a few of Mephisto's guards challenged some of Sutre's men to arm wrestling and then vehemently accusing them of cheating before the game had fully began. Loki allowed it to continue for a moment before sending in Asgard's own guardsmen to suggest they take their squabbles elsewhere. Loki had almost thought he was past the most wearisome moment of the day when he was given word that Eseross of the dark elves wished to speak to Thor and himself. He informed Thor with a roll of his eyes. But such was ruling a realm he supposed.

~~~~~~~~~~~T/L~~~~~~~~~~

Thor looked on as Loki stood impatiently before the king of Svalterheim, his stance casual, one hip sloped to the side as if caught in mid sway

"Well, you wished to have word with me Eseross?" Loki drawled lazily. "I oft find speaking to be rather helpful in these situations," he swished his hand in the air encouraging the king to speak as a conductor would lead a musician.

"My brother died before we could face each other in battle," Eseross told him bluntly, his jaw set and his eyes cold. Thor was momentarily surprised. Talk of the new kings victory had been sparse, and since Loki had not taken to mentioning it, Thor had assumed that there was no issue with the succession. 

"And?" Loki asked frowning in confusion as if the words spoken had not cast dark shadows on the honour of the kings rule.

"He died to poison," the king spat out.

"So he is not dead?" Loki asked mockingly. "Well I certainly would not wish to be the one to have to break the news to his family. I had heard they were rather pleased with the turn of events."

"Poison is not a real death," he seethed.

"Well it is hardly life," Loki laughed. "Dead is dead, you cannot resurrect a man just because he did not die as you see fit. One of the greatest warriors of all history died from a simple sprig of mistletoe, and yet humiliation is not enough to keep him from his tomb," he insisted with a smirk. "It matters not if by sword, or by poison, or even by the inevitable accumulation of years. It makes not a bit of difference as long as they are in fact dead. And if you put such a high price on killing in honour, or by blade, or by your own hand, or by whatever else has made you a whining child in this victory then you have truly never needed someone to be dead."

"And you have?" The king asked in indignity.

"There have been moments," Loki confessed with a wicked smile.

"Only moments?" Thor joked by his side.

"Aye, these desires of mine have a funny way of coming to fruition. I never need hold them long," Loki smiled darkly, ever the evil little thing.

"And if people talk? If they whisper or laugh behind my back?" The king of Svalterheim demanded. Though Thor knew Loki would not be challenged in this for he had already started to creep closer to Thor. The tilt of his neck enough to send memories of earlier through the kings mind and he wondered if they had loosened the beam enough that they would need it repaired before they retired for the night.

"I will talk to the dwarves and have them craft for you a weightier crown," Loki told him dismissively, his hand straying to Thor's thigh.

"And what has my crown to do with anything?" Thor could see Eseross become more enraged with Loki, and his eyes landed viciously on Loki's hand as it drifted closer to Thor's inseam, clearly put out by the flight against him. 

"It is obviously light enough for you to forget its existence. Have them make one with enough heft to strain your neck if you must, so that every second you know you are a king. Here you are nothing but my little doll but in Svalterheim you are a king and it matters not how you got there. Once you take your seat you have power enough to change not only the future but the past also. If you wish to claim that you ascended the throne from the stars themselves, each glittering orb bowing to your might, then you have power enough to make it so that every child must recite your ascension by rite each day. You are king in Svalterheim, and it is high time you remembered that, and remembered by whose hand you became so. Oh, and, Eseross, the reason you and your brother never had chance to meet on the field is I trust my blades, as questionable in honour as they might be, I cannot say the same for yours," Loki told him coldly, his eyes red and sharp like the daggers in his words and with that he strode off clearly finished with the king of Svalterheim. The scolded monarch turned to Thor with dumbfounded confusion and twinges of respect over his features.

"I dare say, if one hand could grasp all the realms it would be his," he muttered. This laughed and moved to his feet to clasp Eseross's shoulder.

"Aye, that he could " he admitted. 

~~~~~~~~~~~T/L~~~~~~~~~~

That night Thor and Loki lay together in Thor's chambers. It seemed that the bed had not lasted this time and the bottom left beam had fallen right over the bed bringing down the roof of material over them and striking Thor sharply against his back. Loki had laughed maniacally all the while from underneath him, the erratic shift of his body alarmingly enticing despite the situation. A flash of green had eviscerated the pillar and it's soft burden and Loki had wrapped his legs tighter around Thor and pushed his body upwards to join them fully whispering for Thor to continue or else he would be next. Now they had finished and the debris was shoved unceremoniously onto the floor. 

"Eseross thinks you could control all the realms," Thor told him conversationally as he burrowed his face into Loki's neck, enjoying the rabid pulse singing under his skin.

"Eseross is a fool," Loki stated as fact. "He is a child in awe of a candle, unable to understand those of us who have seen the sun."

"I agreed with him," Thor admitted sheepishly, not looking at Loki.

"Well we have always known you are a fool," Loki laughed and then paused, becoming so still that Thor was forced to look up at him, despite the crick in his neck. "And if I had all nine realms, what then? If I could make all men cower at my feet, how would I then spend my days? In boredom is where," Loki told him. "Nay, the sword shines brightest when worked against a stone, and so too am I sharpest when set upon by enemies. Luckily for me if there is one thing that the world is never short of if is enemies. One man can never achieve his ambitions but at the expense of another man. All of existence is nothing more than a glorious cycle of victory and defeat. Each thorn you pluck from your finger is a dagger you must stab into your neighbours arm. It is what moves our society along; it is what staves off the boredom of the all too long years."

"But what of contentment? Surely most men seek peace?" 

"Nay, a pretty lie we tell ourselves. Our peace is another mans war. Look only on yourself Odinson, you are king because another man is a peasant. You have power because someone else has none. Even myself, you have me and my ways because Jottenheim does not. Never forget this, for those you slightly will not."

"And how do you win at this cycle?" Thor asked, his sweat cooling with the freeze of Loki's body. "When you have power? Coin?"

"That is how some men play the game, yes. But I work to much simpler rules. As long as I live, I win. I would let all the realms burn to ash and dust if it meant I had but one more breath." Thor clutched Loki tight as he spoke. It seemed a horror to him that Loki meant he would let all other realms but Asgard burn to serve only himself. It should have turned his stomach at the thought, but he could not find it within himself to fear or hate Loki. He would simply have to make sure that it never came to that.


	30. A name

Chapter 30 A Name

Against any natural instinct of self preservation Thor chose to sleep with his back to the room. At first Loki had assumed this was a reflection of his own preference to keep a wall at his back and his eyes level with the door. A concession made for Loki's comfort. But as the weeks passed Loki realised it was something much simpler than this. This was simply how the carefree took their slumber. Those who's guards would raise their blades in defence of their beloved prince and not think to pierce him through for the kingdoms glory, and their kings pleasure. If Loki allowed Thor his true preference, which seemed an ever increasing fate, then Thor would sleep with his bare chest pressed against Loki's and his face pressed into the curve of the Jotun's neck. Loki found it strange, the thought of leaving the expanse of his own back so utterly vulnerable sent a chill through him. 

It was a strange feeling, and not always the most pleasant. Thor's weight pinned Loki to their bed, and it would take nothing less than an expenditure of violent magic to worm his way to freedom. Not only that but Thor's body gave off heat like the fires of the great halls and no matter if they shoved the furs from the bed, sweat still clung clammy wherever their skin touched. More than once Loki awoke to a viscous trail of drool across his neck that the King was quick to deny when the charge was brought against him. Thor slept without a single piece of cloth between them and his cock, soft and flaccid, was an unfamiliar weight against Loki's thigh. Somehow more intimidate even then when Loki drew it within himself. 

Because of all of this Loki often demanded his own space in bed, glaring at Thor if he threatened to cross the imaginary line, and while Thor obeyed with a hung head, a lions share of the time they awoke in that same oppressive position. It seemed, to Loki at least, that he was losing more and more battles out of simple complacency. Another example of his perceived loss was how they conducted themselves after intimacy. Loki insisted on using his magic to cleanse his body as any civilised creature should, but Thor had begged for him to reconsider one time. Thor had stared at him for a long time before pressing his mouth against Loki's soiled skin, using his tongue to lap avidly at Loki's release still splashed over his torso and then pushed two thick fingers into Loki's used opening, sliding in Thor's seed, pushing back what Loki's body had expelled and whispered sickly saccharine words in his ears. Loki had tried to spin the sugar to filth, but even the lewd roll of his body, or his own heated words could not shift Thor from his praise. 

Loki who had been beholden to no one was now beloved.

To his great humiliation these words did not make Loki wish to scoff or roll his eyes in cruel mockery, though he made sure to do both of these things. Instead, he took to them as a bird to the sky. He relished in each word as if they were truth.

Loki was not used to taking affection gracefully and he see-sawed from clinging close to his beloved and barring Thor from all but the briefest crumb of his presence. Loki would send Thor out on trips, or short missions, with his moronic friends, partly to be rid of the dizzying confusion simply staring into Thor's blue eyes could create, and partly to win the favour of Thor's friends who were at best indifferent towards him and at worse openly hostile. It had been easy enough to comment on how fetching black bears pelts were and how soft their fur was. Loki had hardly needed another breath before Thor was kissing him farewell and begging for his well wishes for their hunt, proclaiming loudly that he would bring back the largest pelt for his lover while Asgard cheered their king.

Thor had been gone for two uneventful days. The people of Asgard no longer seemed to hate or fear him as they had. Since Thor's coronation he seemed to have been romanticised, the evil creature transformed by love of their noble prince, now a concubine to a great king. The ladies of he court carried around lockets with his likeness in them as good luck charms for love and blue was by far the most popular colour for gowns that sometimes simply walking through the market was on par with wading a sea. Loki had even heard an ugly rumour about an epic poem being crafted about their love tale. Thor had found it endlessly amusing when Loki had told him he planned to cut the tongue of any foolish enough to try. While Loki was pleased that he faced less opposition in his new homeland without Thor he became bored. He considered it an utter defeat, he could not concentrate with Thor near and had nothing to concentrate on when he was far. 

On the third day his boredom was broken by whispers. The castle called to him through the cracks of the mortar. The birds and spiders and ants all called out at once eager to be the one to tell their master. A man had been caught breaking into the weapons vault and was being detailed awaiting the King's return. It was viewed as a simple matter, one of little concern, but Loki could feel the truth of it in the air. 

Loki had been stuck in a mild stalemate with his unknown enemy for what felt like all time. Finally the snake had struck, all their was to do now was to slice off its head before it struck and poisoned the calf. The unease of approaching bloodshed had set Loki's teeth on edge. He had no particular qualms against war in principle. A well timed conflict was good for morale and for the gold stores. However, he was a little less enamoured with the idea of one not of his own spread, with an enemy he did not even know the name of, and targeted at a land he had put considerable effort into bolstering upwards, and had been led away from an unpleasant and dull conflict not too long before. His spies had become disgruntled at the increase in Loki's demand for news, especially as the reply remained constantly 'no-noise'. Finally he was headed towards at least the start of his assault. 

The clipped clack of Loki's heels struck a beat over the floor and every buckle groaned against leather before clicking gently against metal to make it sound as if an army walked and no just one runtling. Loki was sweltering in the tight brands of brass and leather fixed tightly over his tunic. Most days Loki preferred to dress in as little as possible. It wasn't just his Jotun constitution but he adored the scandalised way the Asgard's viewed him with his naked chest and bare feet; every bit the exotic concubine they thought him to be. But this was no moment for the lewd creature of pleasure, this was a time for a creature of darkness and blood. He walked to the prison like a hawk in a hunt. His shadow friend at his back allowing their cast forms to lengthen as Devils and scratch their claws at the walls. When he got to the door, however, his way was barred by one of the Asgardians. 

"Let me past," Loki demanded.

"You may warm his bed, Jotun, but you do not speak with my King's tongue. I do not bend to you," he spat back, Loki almost found amusement in his animosity. It had been some time since the general public viewed him with such distaste and it made him slightly nostalgic for those first few days of exposing his true form. 

"Then you will break for me," Loki threatened with a snarl, his horned headdress robbing him of the little illusion of humanity that his skin did not erase. "I have serious business with the prisoner. He was caught in the weapons vault, was he not?"

"That is no concern of yours. Two years in a cell and it is done with, unless the King deems otherwise," the guard shot back scowling.

"I think not, there are far greater things going on with this prisoner, and you will hand him to me," Loki commanded standing to his full height.

"And what would you do with him, prithee? Take him to your side and have a thief in your grasp?" The guard guessed with him limited scope. Loki barely held back a laugh at the thought that he might need another to steal for him, let alone someone who had been caught. 

"Nay, I wish to hear him speak is all, speak as if there is fire under his tongue," Loki smirked wickedly as the guard recoiled in horror. The Asgardians prided themselves on their strength but they had their moments of such frailty. 

"Torture! You think I would allow you this? Never!" 

"Only children begrudge the wolf his meal," Loki muttered back still grinning, making sure to show his sharp canines in a quick flash. Behind him Shadow glared with darkened eyes and his shape already blurring at the edges ready to defend his master from fist or blade. 

"You think I would allow you this feast? You are not a wolf, you are carrion. To show away such vermin in a mercy," 

"Do not cover your childish mewling with such a noble word. 'Tis not mercy but cowardice that begs you stop me," Loki drew himself to his full height and set his shoulders back, "I issue to you an ultimatum; let me through and I shall do what goodly men cower from, or I shall lay you out upon the floor and step over the curved notches of your back, and still the deed will be done," Loki knew the power of a well placed threat. He knew it was possible to walk through life with nothing but an empty scabbard and a good show. Loki indeed took great enjoyment from his own shows, but from time to time he welcomed living them, and he ensured their was always metal to hand. But Loki knew better than to waste his energy on a simple guard. With a flick of his eyes he commanded his fellow and Shadow grabbed at the guards collar lifting him easily from his feet in a way a man who looked as many years as he did should not be able to. Loki smiled his thanks and entered the cell.

Loki stared at the man before him. An ordinary Asgardian man by all appearances, broad of muscle and blond of hair. Loki would not think twice if he passed him on the street. However, there was a deadness to his eyes as Loki looked at him, a look he recognised instantly.

"Greetings, I am Loki of Asgard," Loki gave a flourish of a bow and waited. "I do not know from where you have journeyed from, friend, but here we consider it polite to reply a name for a name. So come now, what shall I call you?" The man remained silent. "Of course I could call you fool, for what kind of thief breaks into a vault of priceless and all powerful weapons and yet it caught trying to grab the most insignificant of all that sit there gathering dust?" The man flinched slightly at Loki's observation. If Loki had heard no word but that some soul had broken into the weapons vault and been apprehended than he would not have so much as looked up from his reading. But when the whispers came that it was the Infinity Gauntlet that someone had attempted to take then Loki could not help but see the strings to a much bigger show. Loki knew of the Infinity Gauntlet of course. But he also knew that it was so thoroughly diminished by the lack of its gems that it was worth no more than the gold it was forged from. The man was silent. 

"Show me your true form," Loki demanded, changing his tactic. The creature stared at him in earnest disbelief and horror for a moment, "how did I know?" Loki asked for him. "It takes one to know one," he purred and allowed his skin to shift from blue to red to gold and then back. "Now your turn," the creature didn't move. "Oh come now, I meet so few shifters in my travels, I had thought we might discuss the similar experiences we are sure to have shared. For example, do you know what I find the most irritating about wearing another's skin?" Loki asked letting his magic shift out from his hands and drape itself over his captives flesh. "It still hurts as if it were our own," Loki slid his magic, sharp as a needle, under a layer of pink flesh, just enough to send a dribble of blood down the man's arm. The creature stiffened but didn't make a sound. "I wonder..." Loki mused lazily, his hand swishing gently as if he were paddling it in cool water, allowing his magic to tug at the open wound. "...how many layers need I pull off before I get to see what you really look like,"

The next time Loki moved his hand it won him a scream. 

It took over an hour but finally Loki had what he wanted; a dead Chitauri soldier and a name, Thanos. Finally, it could begin. 

 

~~T/L~~

 

Thor's steps boomed down the hall. Loki had insisted on soling his shoes with steal. They were heavy and cumbersome but they did add a sense of understated grandeur to his stride that he could not deny. Besides there was little that he would refuse Loki if the request was spoken softly into his ear as one hand slid down his chest with promise. As usual he found Loki with his accomplice, the member of the council that he had previously had such issue with, and his assistant, the silly thing of a girl who Loki had once thought to thrust at him in hope of distraction. 

"Leave us!" He bellowed. The girl bowed and fled but the council member lingered, casually looking to Loki for confirmation as if Loki's refusal might supersede the order of a king. Loki nodded in permission and the man left. Loki leaned his body back making an enticing display that any other day might have been enough to sway Thor. 

"So, my King, business...or pleasure?" He quirked an eyebrow up in question.

"You tortured a prisoner,"

"Ah, business it is," Loki sighed as if disappointed, but drew himself upright. "So I take it by your blusterous tone you see some offence in this? Was he some blood of yours? If so, some kin of yours must have strayed far afield to find their satiation as he was one ugly looking thing. Or at least he was when I was done with him," 

"We do not torture our prisoners," Thor told him angrily.

"You do not." Loki corrected. "I claim no such high morality," He stated calmly. "Are we done?"

"Loki, I expect better of you," Thor admitted, his voice softened in disappointment. Immediately the eyes of his beloved grew narrow and cold.

"Better? How could I be better? I did everything I was supposed to do. I am Loki, I am what I am and I may claim a thousand falsehoods true but never in this did I lie. Did you think that you had brought me to heel, Thor? What, did you imagine that you could breed your goodness into me? I never forgot what you were, who you were, or to what unforgiving star you hitched your lot to. I would beg of you the same courtesy," Loki drew in closer until they were nearly touching. "Remember I am no more or less that what I was when you released me from that catacomb of ice. You have always known me, King of Asgard, and there was a time you relished in my darkness,"

"I am King now, Loki, the whole of Asgard is watching us," Thor told him, fisting his hands full of Loki's tunic, trying to get him to see reason. But Loki only scoffed.

"Everyone has always been watching us, that is just the nature of our existence," Loki shrugged. "The lion and the dragon do not lie together without it catching the attention of the world. And now, we are not only being watched but we are being moved against. You may judge my methods but I now have a name of one who plots against us," Loki told him, pulling himself to freedom from Thor's grip and trying to smooth down he creases Thor had pressed into the leather of his outfit. 

"Give me the name," Thor demanded of Loki the full force of the crown of Asgard behind him.

"Thanos," Loki breathed of the name like it was a curse.

"Thanos." Thor tested the name in his mouth. "Do you know him?" Thor asked.

"No, but I soon shall, it is my investigation into who he is that you have just decided to interrupt with your rude indictment of my person," Loki shot him a displeased look before he leant back against one of the library's desk. Thor had barely noticed that Loki had redecorated the library, he had darkened the wood until it was almost black and strewn it with plush green fabric to soften the hard chairs and block out the sunlight in favour of glowing spheres suspended from the ceiling. Loki looked every bit at home there. The irritatingly distracting thought passed through Thor's mind that if he were to take Loki and throw him down upon the floor there would be plenty to cushion his fall and make it more enjoyable than painful. It didn't help that Loki was looking at him as if he knew his thoughts shifting so he sat on the desk behind him and spread those long legs just enough to draw Thor's eye. It would be quite a thing to have Loki in his own den, the place he whiled away his time when not with Thor. To make it so that every time they were apart Loki would think of him, would think of Thor kissing him, of their bodies pressed together. 

"So, my King..." Loki whispered gently, heat in his eyes as if Thor's thoughts were written plain on his face, his long legs sliding even further apart until it would be a simple thing to move and stand in the space they offered. "...did you rush back before a completed hunt?" 

"Nay, we were already on our way back," Thor confessed feeling his words become thick in his throat. "The beast is with the furrier, it shall be yours soon,"

"Oh, so I suppose congratulations are in order," he opened up his arms wide in invitation. "Come, let me celebrate the triumphant hunter," he requested and Thor went to him, there was never any doubt he would. Loki kissed him as if he had been gone a century, his hands clawing at Thor's hair half pulling it from his hunters braid. He looped his legs around Thor's waist, forcing him close and even when they parted he kept his face buried in Thor's neck, his tip of his nose nuzzling Thor's skin. It dawned on Thor then that Loki was afraid, the thought had never crossed his mind before.

"Loki, you know that all shall be well, do you not?" He asked, running one hand over the elaborate leathers and metals that wrapped and coiled around Loki's body. Thor knew his lover must have been in discomfort, he found relief in only the most meagre bolts of cloth and here he sat not only encased in tight unforgiving leather but also pressed close against the heat of Thor's skin. "Asgard is unbeatable," he reassured Loki. "Our troops are the strongest, our weapons the greatest, in battle we cannot fail," Loki looked at him for a long moment, his face unreadable. "We shall win this," Thor swore to him, and yet his lovers face fell at his words.

"We need not win, I merely hope we shall survive," Loki told him, his voice lost.

"Nonsense, we shall fight and best this foe, you shall see Loki," Thor tried his best to convince his beloved, Loki merely clutched him tighter and hummed in vague agreement.

~~T/L~~ 

Two days later in a burst of fire and destruction that had never before been heard of the land of the fire Giants was attacked, the fight lasted less than an hour, by the time it was over all the realms spoke but one name. Thanos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short I've been writing it in my iPad.


	31. A whole new story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanos issues an ultimatum and Loki has to make a choice

Chapter 31. A whole new story

In the wake of Muspelheim's fall, and Sutre's surrender, all the realms were throw into chaos. The light elves had captured record of the great burst of energy and Loki had obtained a shard of the record. He had sequestered himself away in his library with Nerfi, and barred all those but he highest of Asgard's minds entrance. The mages, the proven commanders, and the combat trainers were all granted their allotted time with Loki. All that was bar Thor who saw him only in the deepest part of the night when Loki would enter their chambers, too fatigued to do anything but lay down next to him and push his face into Thor's neck and sleep. 

Despite watching it play over and over again Loki had told him with frustrated eyes that he could not work out how Thanos had possibly gathered the kind of power that he had unleashed on Muspelheim. His ship, a gaudy thing carved into the vague shape of a skull, but jagged and rough looking, flanked by the serpentine living ships of the Chitauri. After the devastation Thanos had issued a command to all the realms, a command to either surrender and give over their kingdoms to him or to face him in war. Thor had but two days left of the given week and he had called a meeting of the highest council in all of Asgard. Though it was not much of a decision, where Asgard went so too went the forces of Alfheim, Vanaheim, Jottenheim and Svalterheim. With that army under Asgard's banner, Thor was sure that they could not fail.

When Thor entered the room he had intended to be the first, but Loki had already waited for him. Thor had never seen him look so pensive. He sat blankly staring at the table. It was the war table, thick and marked with the occasional groove of a blade where some long dead general had stabbed his weapon into a map in his zeal. A map of the realms was spread over its bulk, weighted in place with golden ornaments fashioned into symbols of Asgard, wolves, Ravens, Rams and other such creatures, prowling around the edges of the conflict. Some carpenter had forged little figurines to take the place of the warring forces and Loki held one in his hand, an Asgardian battalion, utterly ignoring Thor's entrance. His back was straight, the bronze curve of his horns making him seem twice the height, the vivid slash of his red cloak down his spine to his black loincloth the only thing that marked him as being of Asgard and not some wild thing. He was staring at the table as if he already saw the first few moves of the fight begin. They sat in silence for many moments as the other members of the council filed in around them. Thor took the head of the table as was his right as King with Loki two seats down to his right, Nerfi; Loki's confident to his right, further away, a perfect reflection of his continence like a perverse mimic. When finally everyone was gathered Thor stood up, resting his hands on the table, balled into fists. Mjolnir singing in the back of his head, exhausting in his call to protect his realm, trilling at his worth to carry her. He could almost hear the people of Asgard in her song.

"We go to war," Thor told the council calmly. There followed a hum of cold agreement. Only Loki sat in silence, his face tipped down, the soft folds of his dark hair curling over his blue shoulders, catching haphazardly in the sun and moon clasp at his throat. Slowly he pushed back his chair and stood upright. Thor smiled, of course Loki would be the first to stand with him, he would need Loki's quick mind to help the battle whatever magic was the keystone to Thanos' power. However, the moment staled as he took in Loki's face; the set jaw and disappointed scowl, the reluctance in his red eyes. 

"Are you taken by madness?" Loki demanded. "You should take the deal. Grab it with both hands before our attacker realises he need not wait to gently receive but take with force all that we have," Loki gripped the table tight enough to make the tips if his fingers purple. 

"You would have me grovel?" Thor asked incredulously, his eyes fixed on Loki desperately. 

"Aye, grovelling with living breath is a far more honourable feat than the silence of death," Loki retorted sharply.

"Loki, Asgard stands below no land, we have our pride," Thor told him, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"Pride! Pride indeed! Oh how pride will comfort the widows and orphans, how it will fill the starving bellies of your people when the armies of Thanos scorch the fields to ash, and how it will rule your people when you are slain! I have seen pride and all the good it ever did was decorate a grave. Let them have it," Loki took a step further back, his chair making a terrible shriek over the stone floor. As Loki berated the king of Asgard as if he was nothing more than a boy. 

"This is treason!" One of the council members, a respected and proven general, called at Loki slamming his hand down on the table with force enough to send the little figures rattling. He turned to Nerfi who merely stared on, silently throwing his lot in with Loki, much to the displeasure of the other men. "I propose this interloper..." The general pointed to Loki with a sneer. "...this wolf in lambs-guise, be exiled from Asgard, put him out or put him to his death, either way Asgard should rid themselves of his plague." There was a crow of cheers. Before Thor could even leap to Loki's defence the man in question was already on his own defence.

"Why?" Loki spat back. "Asgard is but a scrap of land. You think dirt cares for its owner? You think that the meadow looks to the furrowed field and envies its neighbour, wishes fairer folk were its owner? It is but land. Give the mad Titan what little he asks for and pray he does not see how petty a thing he has won," Loki told them dully, sweeping his hand over the table to still the rattling figurines. Thor reached for the one topped with silver wings, the one that was his own and pressed it tight into his palm.

"You cannot understand, Loki. I give your council heed in many respects...but this...this you cannot ask of me," he stared Loki down trying to convince him with his eyes alone.

"And yet I do ask this of you. I beg it of you. I will take to my knees and grovel if I must, I will haply do what shame keeps you from. You cannot commit such folly," 

"There is no choice, Loki, we go to war," 

"Then you go without me,"

"What? You would stay here as we go to war?" Thor asked incredulously, Loki just looked back at him with scorn in his eyes.

"No, I am a creature of self-preservation and the moment you no longer serve my interests I will not hesitate to leave,"

"My father sleeps, you think I would allow him to wake to an Asgard of rubble and ruin?"

"You think it would be better to gave him wake to bones and blood?"

"You cannot ask this, anything else but not this," Thor would not let his voice turn to begging, not in the room with his war council.

"This is all there is to ask," Loki stared at Thor, his throat moving with a deep swallow. "I must go," Thor felt the pull, the desire to give in. Loki in exchange for all of Asgard it was no easy choice, part of Thor wanted to lay down his arms, to serve a master by Loki's side seemed infinitely better than reigning without him. But Thor was Asgard's king and he could not do that to the land he loved, not for Loki and not for himself. A terrible darkness settled in his chest as he looked at Loki knowing this might be the end of it all, that once he let his eyes shift away from Loki they might never gaze at him again. 

"Go, if you must, but know that once this has passed there is still a place for you here with me," Thor told him, wanting to reach out and touch but not daring. Loki looked at him, his red eyes glazed with regret. 

"My dear sweet fool, when this is passed, there shall be neither a here, nor a you to return to," with an elegant sweep he pulled his cloak from his shoulders and laid it out on his chair, smoothing down fictitious creases with his fingers before removing the clasp and tucking it into the black cloth around his waist, and with a final bow he quit the room.

"Loki..." Thor could not help the whispered plan of his beloved's name, but Loki's footsteps did not so much a stutter.

~~L/T~~

Loki felt sick to his stomach, but some things are unavoidable. He stood in his chambers a moment, pondering what he should take. He settled for nothing. No clothing, no books, no weapons. It was harder than he had imagined to quit the room, possibly forever. But with a sigh Loki took to his path. A figure of gold met him in the doorway.

"You leave us Loki?" Frigga spoke sadly to him, her hands clasped at her waist, the very picture of royal deportment.

"News spreads quick," Loki pointed out with a wry smile.

"Indeed, but anyone with eyes could see this decision in your countenance since the attack," Frigga pointed out,

"I do not think your son did," 

"Ah, I think he looks upon you with much different designs as I do," Frigga smiled. "Asgard is strong and Thor will lead well..."

"It matters not the capability of a captain or the sturdy build of a ship, rats always know when to quit a vessel. I am not of Asgard. Valour, pride, heroism, these are words to mock and scorn, too many times have I seen these words as lanterns lead men to their deaths. I will not sacrifice myself for Asgard," Loki told her, his mouth twisted in an amusement he did not feel.

"And what of Thor," Frogga asked.

"What of him?" Loki tried his best to show indifference in the slope of his hip but his traitorous hand found and gripped his sun and moon clasp as if it could summon Thor to him.

"Without you he might fall," Frigga stated with cold concern.

"With me he shall fall. The battles of the realms have been set in stone for all eternity, the winners and losers already chosen before the first strike is even cast. But this thing that Thanos does, this story is unwritten, I know not how it will progress, know not what shall happen from one moment to the next. He is writing this tale himself, and he casts himself as victor, at least this way I need not see it," Loki told her, walking towards her and gathering one of her hands to kiss. "Farewell, Lady Frigga, just because I go does not mean it leaves me without sorrow," Without looking back he left. He just walked to the edge of Asgard, right to where the Bifrost swirled like a great golden globe oscillating in preparation for him already, awakening to the magic at his fingers. The gatekeeper stood impartial as the mountains to his approach, he served Asgard and its king, but he would not bar Loki his choice. He was nearly at his freedom when the back of his neck fell into a cold sweat, the hair at his nape pricking up in caution, and he caught all seeing Heimdell reach for his weapon. With as little motion as he could he shook his head. 

"Loki of Asgard," a voice rumbled at him, Loki turned slowly and stared at the man, his skin was a greyish-purple, his figure was stocky, bulky and square as if he had been carved from rock or coral. But there was something wrong with him, no heat came from his body, no swirl of breath, he was but a shade. The thought did little to calm Loki. "Though I guess you are no longer of Asgard are you. What shall I call you?"

"Loki," Loki answered in clipped tones. "I have never needed more. And what, pray tell, shall I call you?" Loki asked with all the manners a life in court had ever graced him with.

"I am Thanos, beloved of lady death, Titan of greatness and soon ruler of all the realms," the Titan told Loki.

"Quite the mouthful, you will perhaps allow me the familiarity of calling you but Thanos," Loki moved cautiously, if the evidence he had obtained from the elves showed him anything it was that Thanos had power enough to destroy him at a whim, and Loki had a vested interest in not being destroyed. 

"Why of course," Thanos smiled at him. "You and I could be very good friends, Godling,"

"Friends?" Loki raised one eyebrow in his surprise.

"Why, yes, you are no longer of Asgard. Where could one such as you go?" Thanos asked eyeing Loki with a professional interest.

"There is always a place for one such as I," Loki shrugged, brushing at the cloth around his hips.

"Tell me, little Godling, this black you adorn yourself in, perhaps you start to mourn your thunderer already, to save you time when he falls," Loki felt a stab of vicious hate seep through his veins, the magic he had weaved through Thor called at him to take retribution for a threat against that which was under his protection. But he was not fool enough to rise to the baiting.

"Mourning is not in my nature, Loki never grieved a loss but that of his own," he lied as smugly as he could muster. 

"Of course, death is a gift to the great lady and should be exalted, walk with me Loki, I could give you such power," Thanos offered.

"Power is always there, a tide that shifts and surges at its own mind," Loki smirked, trying to move around to get closer to the Bifrost. "I have always noted the more someone tries to capture the tides they become consumed by them, a little advice since we are to be such friends," Loki told him, his eyes communicating the threat, but the Titan just grinned.

"I can gift you land,"

"Dirt? You offer me dust and soil to tempt me?" Loki laughed, the back of his heel at the edge of the Bifrosts mouth. "Land belongs to sun and moon and rain

"I can give you coin,"

"Why do all the realms think that all Loki cares for is gold?" Loki sighed in the most put upon manner. 

"Well the stores of Asgard burst to the rafters. Both Alfheim and Vanaheim receive less for their wears than with the other realms, and Svalterheim pays for the honour of being paired with the might of Asgard, a move I'm sure they now regret. I was moved to believe you quite liked gold," Thanos mused. "Before, I had only seen the dwarves take to hoarding riches as you do," 

"Gold is but a counter in a game," Loki repeated, feeling the words like pearls slip and curve in his mouth as they echoed from a conversation he had had with Thor.

"And you do liking winning, do you not Loki?" 

"You could sooner find for me a star made of wood than you would find a man who takes his pleasure with losing," Loki scoffed, the edge of one foot tipping further over into the Bifrost, the swirling vortex into another realm and safety just a slither out of reach.

"Ah, yes, but you, my dark little creature, you would cast all the realms as but steps if you could but win. That is why you shall live on, while all of Asgard will burn. Tell me, Loki and nothing more, why should I let you go?" Thanos asked grinning at him. Loki let his shoulders relax, though his body wished for nothing more than to ready for a fight.

"Because ones such as I make this game interesting," Loki told him winningly. Thanos laughed, a crazed noise.

"Go, little Godling, once Asgard is no more perhaps we shall see each other again," Thanos turned and the shade dissolved into the air. Loki took the opportunity, without even sharing a look with Heimdell, he stepped into the Bifrost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry


	32. Thanos story

Chapter 32 Thanos' Story

Thor held onto the belief that once the conflict began Loki would return. Once Thor first clashed weapons with some foe, there would be Loki, his magic swirling at his command. But after six months that belief began to shrink. Loki was gone. It was a hard burden to bare. The lack of his body in Thor's bed. The lack of his voice in the halls. Even the smoked wintergreen scent of him in the air. All was gone. A dozen times a day did the Asgardian king turn his head to utter words to him, only to find the space he should occupy empty. Thor had forbidden anyone to go near Loki's library, under pains of death. One day Loki would return and he would be enraged at the idea of anyone invading his privacy, touching what Thor had declared belonged to Loki alone. But war was a distraction. Despite Loki's liberal use of it as a term of endearment Thor was not, in fact, a fool, he knew the war did not go well. He had thought that with several armies combined he might have the sheer number needed to win, but Thanos seemed to have a never ending supply of Chitauri soldiers and after six months of conflict Thor's numbers had dwindled while Thanos' had remained the same. Even with the forces of Alfheim, Svalterheim, Jottenheim and Vanaheim all joined with Asgard they were still outmanned, and since Muspelheim had conceded their defeat they faced the fire Giants as well.

Even though Loki was gone, his spirit lingered, rumours spread like wild flowers over where he might have gone. Some said that he had joined Thanos, but Thor refused to even consider this. Others said that he had fled to Hel and had become the consort of the half mutilated queen, but Loki had told Thor that if ever he had a daughter it would have been her, for Loki could birth nothing less than beautiful monsters. Thor's friends consoled him with the idea that Loki was sitting out the war in the skin of a beast or bird. Thor's gaze lingered on every magpie he saw but none of them seemed anything more than mere birds. Every realm in Yggdrasil had reports of catching glimpses of him, somedays to Thor it felt as if he was everywhere but besides him. 

The council of Asgard was thrown into disarray when Nerfi simply vanished two days after Loki left, though this didn't surprise Thor in the least for he knew Loki kept the man as a confidant of sorts. What did surprise him, however, was that he heard other realms lost one or two high ranking individuals not long after Loki's desertion.

Surprisingly, it was lady Sif, who had liked Loki least, that took to Thor's side in his bereavement. She drank with him when he needed, and sat with him by the great fires of Asgard once their fights were finished and they rested, waiting for the next conflict and nursing their wounds. 

"He was a good man," Sif offered with a lift of her cup in honour. Thor could not help but bark out a laugh for what felt the first time since Loki had strode away from him.

"Nay, Loki was many a thing, but good never graced him. It took me far too long to see this myself. I will not have you cast him in a softer light. If he must be away from me I will miss all of him, every sharp corner, every barb, and claw, and fang, or else I will have loved but the thought of him, and Loki was never such a shade. Sif, I loved each and every bit if him, as he in turn loved me. Just because for Asgard it would be a simpler thing for them to imagine I loved a good and noble creature does not a history of adoration erase. Let them think I loved a thing nothing worth but I know that he had higher claim than all other. I loved a snake and I love him still," Thor told her sadly, downing his cup and leaving her.

~~~L/T~~~

Despite the lack of Loki there was something oddly comforting in the battle. The swing of Mjolnir through the air, the satisfying thunk as it made contact with the breast of a Chitauri, the sweat, the heat of it all. Thor knew this, he was a creature of war. Lightening coursed through Thor's skin and lit up the air, striking at the Chitauri until the wind blew with the scent of scorched flesh and over heated metals. Thor raised Mjolnir to the sky and lightening flocked to its head battering down anything that dared to come in its path. Above him one of the Chitauri's living warships let out a death moan loud over the field, it's body coming crashing down helplessly, laying out its corpse over a battalion of Chitauri and even still more just came clambering over the dead shell of a thing, it's mouth still agape from that last helpless cry. 

Thor crowed his victory, the berserker rage inside him, barely cooling even in rest now, flowed through him like a thing half craved. It was only in these moments that there was no Loki, no Thanos, not even Asgard. Nothing mattered but war and victory.

His shield brothers were gathered tight around him, the zip of arrows, even the chilled glint of elven Magic all swirled around him. The Chitauri were not difficult to strike down, it was their sheer number that made them a force. Even their weapons, energy blasters and double edged spears were not enough to fell a warrior in one strike. They seemed not to speak or organise their attacks, but rather roar at each other like animals and attack as drones willingly walking even into certain death, one Thor was more than willing to grant them. As a fighter and a champion Thor exalted in the combat even after six long months, as a king however he saw the conflict for what it was truly, a hopeless quest if things did not change. 

Thor stood, Sif and the Warriors three braced around him. The elves both the dark and light cast their alchemy in colourful sparks around them. To the left the Jotun embedded their ice swords deep in their enemy, and the Vanir hacked and slashed with steal right next got their Asgardian cousins. Every day repeated with the same dark certainly, they awoke, they dressed for war, they headed to where Asgard was defended and they tried to hold off the hoards of attackers. Neither side gained any territory, but the Asgardian forces only grew weaker, whereas Thanos' continued with the same zeal and numbers. 

The others realms had quit their kingdoms, facing Thanos as a single force was the only hope they had. The grand castle of Asgard now played host to a number of rulers, each with their closest families and advisors. Their armies slept together, separated only by canvas camps within the safety of Asgard's walls. Every night Thor stared out over the map that displayed their progress with the other rulers and every day they saw their future look a little dimmer.

"We are not winning," Helblindi spoke honestly, as always the Jotun king was as straight forward as could be. the chill of his flesh was so different from the light frost like feeling his brother had carried with him. "Our forces dwindle, I do not know how much longer we can continue in this vein," 

"And what prithee would you have me do?" Thor demanded, his fist making a satisfying contact with the table. "Surrender?" 

"No," Helblindi shook his head, flecks of ice shed themselves off and flicked into the air around him. "We simply need a new plan. We can't go on as we have," next to the King of Jottenhiem the elven queen nodded sagely.

"My mages are not inexhaustible, Asgardian, nor will I see them be fodder in this war," there was a warning in her voice.

"If my brother was here..." Helblindi began.

"Your brother is not here though," Thor reminded him. "Loki quit this war, I shall not," 

"What of your father? Could we not awaken Odin from his sleep?" Eseross asked and Thor was starting to see what it was about him that Loki had found so irritating.

"The Odin-sleep is not the rest of an old man, it is the force that recharges all of Asgard. I can no more make my father wake then I could beg the sun for another hour of light, or ask the wind to change direction," 

"So says you!" Eseross bit back. "You just don't want Daddy to wake to your failure," Thor rose to his full height to stare the king of Svalterheim down, there was no way he would have dared to have spoken to Thor this way a few months ago. A few lucky kills on the battle field had made Eseross think he was some sort of warrior king. 

"Sit yourself down, Eseross, before you make an even larger fool of yourself," Njord, the King of Vanaheim spoke, a deep burn blistered over the right side of his face, a trophy from a skirmish with one of the fire Giants. 

"You do not order me, king of the lesser!" Eseross spat out and Thor sighed before the elven queen could fling them to either side of the room, soon all the Kings were engaged in petty squabbles while Thor massaged his tired temple.

"There would be peace if Loki were here," Thor pointed out to his mother who sat at his side.

"Or else he would use their acrimony to his own ends," she added nudging him slightly in the side. 

"Aye, he would," Thor smiled, in his mind he could almost imagine Loki leaned back in his chair watching all of this unfold waiting for the right moment. "But I am not Loki," he told her.

"No, you are Thor, Loki moves from the shadows, but you my dear son, you are the light," she grasped his hand and squeezed once before giving him a slight nod of her head. Reluctantly Thor got to his feet.

"Look at you all. You are as children. How can you call yourselves rulers. The crown is not for the green of spring alone or the warmth of summer, it is for the darkness of winter the decay of autumn, and here we sit together. Enemies no longer, joined together by a force that would come to burn the very roots of the great Yggdrasil. A foe that fights not for home or kin but the simple matter of bringing destruction. Think of the world that will be if we do not stand our best, if we do not fight until our last breath, if we do not charge at this darkness with everything we have. Do not think of those who are not here, of My father, or even Loki, here we are the greatest rulers of the realms, and you wish to waste your time in quarrel? You think the Chitauri bicker as this? Nay. They think of nothing but the fight, and as so must we. Stand with me, brothers, sisters, for this war will forge us to kin. Put aside generations of hate and come together under the banner of Yggdrasil, or else quit this place and take yourselves to slavery under Thanos," the Kings and queen stared at him a moment before Helblindi drew his blade, the huge slab of ice poised dangerously fir a moment before he lay it upon the table.

"I will be proud to name you brother, though I doubt Loki will take to it with grace," he smiled.

"Alfheim is not for the taking," the elven queen spoke nodding her head.

"Nor is Vanaheim," Njord agreed. "I will not suffer through the indignities of the numerous nicknames my clan have dreamt up all for naught,"

"For Ygrdrassil," Eseross spoke, his magic blade sparking with his words. Thor looked at them each in turn.

"For Yggdrasil," he agreed.

~~~L/T~~~

It was a stupid mistake. Thor simply saw an opening and took it, even if where he took him was past the enemy lines and into Chitauri held space. Thor was prevailing much better than he should have, he had taken down dozens of enemies and advanced Asgard by a fair few strides when he felt it, cold and ominous against where his pulse raced with battle. One of the Chitauri held its blade at Thor's wrist, if he so much as gripped the handle of Mjolnir tighter the steal would slice open his veins and all would be lost. Another blade slide to his throat and held there for a moment. 

"Move!" The thing hissed, the mandible-like mouth pieces parted wetly to make the noise. He was shoved forward roughly towards one of the tents at the very edge of the battle field. Thor had seen high ranking Muspelheim generals stubble out of them. It was marked with the sign of the crown of Muspelheim.

"Where do you take me?" He asked refusing to accept surrender.

"To my master," was hissed back into his ear throwing him into the tent and forced to his knees with enough force to near break the skin. Sutre stood before him, clothed for war, metals melted into his shoulders until he was one with his armour. For one long moment he looked at Thor, and then smiled.

"He who moves my hands will be most pleased to see you here, Odinson," Sutre spoke in a grumble. Thor had not seen Thanos since the beginning of the conflict. The thought of being dragged towards him as a prisoner was not a pleasant one. He crossed to Thor, one hand gripping tight to Thor's hair and pulled back his head. It seemed to attempt an approximation of a grin. "I quite like you here, on your knees at my mercy," 

"Now, now, king of fire, if any harm were to come to the thunderer I would be forced to destroy you," a familiar voice purred from the shadows. Behind him the other Chitauri shifted into blackness and then back to Nerfi as the owner of the voice sauntered forward.

"Loki..." Thor breathed out his name.


End file.
